


What Makes Us Human

by TwicetheTrouble



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Caboose as Agent California, Caboose is Carolina's brother, Delta escapes the Meta, Delta has emotions, Delta learns emotions, Delta stays with Caboose, Gen, Nightmares, Past Freelancer Caboose, Tags may be added, but it's addressed more, caboose has memory issues, faulty neural implant, for background plot reasons, i mean thats already cannon, injured Delta, it will make sense I promise, just for ai chats, sick Delta, some colored text
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 04:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 53,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26467444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwicetheTrouble/pseuds/TwicetheTrouble
Summary: Delta’s first assignment was to assist Freelancer’s scientists in developing a Neural Implant safe for agent usage. It was there, he was paired with a volunteer by the designation Agent California to test a prototype. When it was decided to be too dangerous for general use, they scrapped the blueprints and moved on.Many years later, he comes in contact with a Blue Sim soldier by the name Michael J. Caboose who has that very same prototype and a mind broken from its use. This time, Delta, for no rational reason he can come up with, refuses to be taken away a second time.Or Delta escapes capture to stay with (past Freelancer) Caboose and has to deal with the many consequences that come after.
Relationships: AI Program Delta & AI Program Epsilon | Leonard Church, Michael J. Caboose & AI Program Delta, Michael J. Caboose & Agent Carolina, Michael J. Caboose & Agent Washington
Comments: 205
Kudos: 243





	1. My name is Delta

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm here with a new fic i really shouldn't have started. But it's going to be fairly short (like it's about 12k rn and i'm almost halfway through my outlined events.) This thing started out as a cute, little thing to comment on how great Delta would be paired with Caboose. It soon turned into this cute-but-a-lot-more-angsty monster that i love even more!
> 
> Anyways, Hope you enjoy,
> 
> TBL

“I suggest transferring me into a new suit. Preferably yours, Agent Washington,” Delta said, his hologram hovering over South’s downed armor.

“Not going to happen,” Agent Washington said coldly. “One of you two take him.”

“Umm…I don’t think that I can-“

“I’ll do it. I’m good with robot people,” Private Caboose volunteered, already stepping forward to take the AI chip.

Delta was a little surprised even as he prepared for transfer. Not particularly about Agent Washington’s reaction to his suggestion. Washington had been a strange about AIs after Epsilon. He expected as much. He did not expect Private Caboose to take him, or the others to actually let him. According to what was left of Freelancer personnel files, this soldier was personally responsible for several friendly fire cases resulting in injuries and, in a few cases, death. Delta had a feeling he was going to have to work overtime simply to keep Washington and Private Church alive.

Maybe that was why no one protested Caboose taking him.

It took a moment for Delta to settle into the new suit. It was an older model but not too old that it would keep him from integrating into its systems.

Delta paused for a moment, a barely perceivable amount of time for a human. This soldier had a neural implant. He was unaware that the blue and red simulation soldiers had been outfitted with such devices, though he was far from an expert when it came to sim troopers. He could interact with implant if he wanted to, instead he simply scanned it.

The neural implant was even older than the suit model. It was a prototype that had been deemed too dangerous to use, a step or two before the current model was designed. It was extremely invasive and gave any AI far too much access to the host’s mind. If the AI wasn’t careful, it could cause severe brain damage.

But there was something else. Something familiar. Delta was certain he had been in this exact implant before.

“Oh, Agent Cal-“

“Hello!” Caboose interrupted happily. “Mr. green glowing person.”

“My name is Delta,” Delta corrected, studying the man carefully. He was different then when he last met him, almost as if an AI had been in his implant since then and hadn’t been as careful as they should. Delta was fairly certain he had experienced some sort of brain damage. “You should know this.”

“Yes. Mr. Debutant,” his ex-agent said.

“You…do not remember,” Delta stated.

“Don’t read too much into it, he’s an idiot,” Church said with a sigh. “He forgets everything as soon as he sees it.”

“That’s not true,” Caboose said. There was a brief silence before he spoke again. “Who’s the purple guy again?”

“See? A complete moron. He was before Omega and only got worse after.”

“Omega? The Omega AI had been in his suit?” Delta asked. “That would explain a lot.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Church scoffed. “Anyways, what are we going to do with the purple chick?”

“Taking her with us would be ill advised,” Delta said after a long moment, pushing the Caboose problem aside for a later date. They had bigger issues to deal with right now and it was illogical to worry about him at the moment. It was not like the brain damage was going anywhere.

-

“Private Caboose? Do you have a moment?” Delta asked, getting the blue soldier’s attention as discretely as possible. The small team had settled down for the night on their way to their next destination and the AI was hoping he could have a short conversation with his new host.

“Of course, Mr. Dill Pickles! I have all the moments,” Caboose said louder than Delta thought necessary.

“My name is Delta,” the AI corrected, doubting it would stick. He had been correcting him all afternoon and the names he has come up with have only gotten more wrong.

“Right. Dell Computers.”

“Close enough,” Delta said. If he could sigh, he would have. “I have a few questions I would like to ask you.”

“Ok. Maybe I will even have answers.”

“That would be preferable.”

“Soooo….what did you want to talk about? Is it about pickles?”

“No, it is not.”

“I like pickles.”

“I am sure,” Delta stated. “I would like to know what you remember of before this.”

“Oh yeah, I was with Principal Miller! It was nice,” he paused for a moment. “They gave me my own room! It had bars. And rope. And sometimes a roommate! They usually didn’t stay very long. For some reason, that wasn’t me, they usually ended up dying.”

“No, before that.”

“Blood Gulch?”

“ _Before_ that.”

“Silly Dallas, there was no before Blood Gulch,” Caboose said with enough conviction that it almost sounded believable.

“It is highly unlikely that there was no ‘before Blood Gulch’,” Delta stated. “You had to have been somewhere before you were there.”

“I’m confused.”

“My apologies. I did not intend to confuse you,” Delta said, already thinking up a different approach. “What about your involvement with the Omega AI? What do you remember about those encounters?”

“Omega was mean. Meaner than Tex. And she was very mean,” Caboose said with a nod. “He was in my head for a while. Then Church and Tex were in my head to try to kill him but it didn’t work.”

“You had three…people in your head at one time.”

“If Church, Tex, and Omega equal three then yes, I had three people in my head.” Caboose paused again as if realizing something. “But Washingtub doesn’t know Church and Tex can do that so can you maybe not say anything to him about it?”

“My lips are sealed. In a matter of speaking.”

“AI’s have lips? That’s amazing!”

“I believe I would be unable to convince you otherwise so yes, AI’s have lips.”

“Amazing,” Caboose whispered to himself.

“I am sure,” Delta said. “Private Caboose, I was wondering if you would allow me to take a look into your mind as well?”

“But you’re already in my mind,” Caboose said slowly.

“I am in your armor, not your mind.”

“I don’t see a difference.”

“There is.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Caboose said, sounding skeptical.

“I will be careful,” Delta reassured.

“Don’t worry about that. No one’s careful in my head.”

“In that case, I will be extra careful.”

“Ok!”

Delta slipped into the neural implant, cautious to not shock the mind he was entering. He felt a bit uncomfortable with how far his code had to stretch from his chip to the very inner workings of Caboose’s implant, but he would make due. It would not be for long.

The place was…empty. A lot emptier than he expected. Normally there was some sort of environment when he went into a neural implant this deep. But this one had nothing but stone blocks and some fairly large piles of rubble.

“Private Caboose?” Delta called, trying to get the host’s attention.

“Hello,” a voice called out. They sounded similar to Caboose but, in some way, calmer. Delta glanced over to find someone in a familiar blue set of armor addressing him.

“Private Caboose, you seem more…aware while here,” Delta stated.

“A little. My thoughts flow easier,” Caboose said, looking around. “They aren’t as foggy.”

“There is not much here to ‘fog them up’.”

“True,” Caboose said, a bit of amusement in his voice.

“Do you have better access to your memories from in here?”

“Not really.” Caboose fidgeted in place. Delta was unsure if it was because he was uncomfortable with the conversation or simply couldn’t sit still. “I think I should…but I don’t.”

“Do you know if your memory problems started after your involvement with Omega or before?” Delta asked carefully.

“I’m not sure,” Caboose murmured, fidgeting even more. Delta was starting to think his assessment earlier about him being uncomfortable was correct. “I think it may have been a thing before…and maybe got worse after? Church died before Omega got in my head so I’m pretty sure there was some issues before.”

Delta was a little curious about that last statement, but decided that was an issue for later. Private Church seemed perfectly fine now.

“But you do not remember anything before you met Church.”

“I can if I really try, but it hurts,” Caboose answered. “Why do you want to know all this?”

“I was testing a hypothesis.”

“A hippopotamus?”

“No. I have a theory that I was trying to prove,” Delta explained, a bit of amusement bubbling in the back of his code. As different as this inner Caboose seemed to be, little statements like that proved to him they were still very much the same person.

“About my brain?”

“About you,” Delta stated. When Caboose only tilted his head to give him a confused look, he continued. “Before I was assigned to Agent York, I assisted the production team in testing new Neural interfaces that would be later used on their agents. Specifically, Neural implants. If a prototype was ready for human testing, I would be placed into it after it had been implanted into a human, then go through some tests to insure it worked properly before giving them a report. There were only two models that ever got far enough for me to test in such a way, one that later got produced for general Agent use. The other scrapped soon after testing. Your model is of the later.”

“So I have a faulty implant?” Caboose said slowly as if still processing what Delta had said.

“Yes, but it is more than that,” Delta continued. “There was only one of that particular model ever implanted into a person. It was deemed too dangerous due to the extreme invasiveness of the interface. The volunteer that received it was an agent by the name of Cali-“

“-California,” Caboose finished. His head was down and his hands were resting on either side of his helmet like he was trying to grab his head. Delta did not think this was a good sign. “Agent California. They called me Cal. I think.”

“Correct,” Delta said, as gently as he could. “I believed you to be the same person but I did not have time to question you immediately. I had been in your implant, your mind for about a week before they decided I had enough information to be pulled.”

“I’m sorry…I can’t…I don’t re-“ His fingers curled against his helmet, trying to dig into the metal.

“Do not hurt yourself on my account,” Delta told him, watching him begin to relax again. “The only concern I have in that respect is that Omega must have done a lot of damage to your mind if it forced you to forget the entirety of Project Freelancer.”

“I don’t like not knowing things. It hurts people. It killed Church. Twice.”

“If you would like, I can assist you with that while I am here,” Delta offered, before he had a chance to think about it himself. Agent California had been one of the favorite minds he had interfaced with, other than Agent York that is. He was an almost perpetually happy individual that just wanted approval. Delta wanted to help him. “I cannot fix what has been broken or help you remember yourself, but I can keep track of what you need to know. Though I will need my chip moved out of your armor slot and directly into your neural implant to be most effective.”

“You’ll remember for me?” Caboose asked in confusion.

“Basically yes, if you would like me to.”

Caboose paused for a long moment, making Delta a little concerned that he had overstepped his boundaries. Before he could begin to retract the statement, Caboose darted forward, enveloping the fragment into a bearhug that Delta was fairly sure shouldn’t have been physically possible. But as the surprise faded, Delta found he didn’t exactly mind the contact. Touch wasn’t something AIs were supposed to experience but, this was nice.

“Thank you, Delta!” Caboose exclaimed, eventually setting Delta down so his feet were back on the ground. “Thank you so much!”

“It is the least I can do,” Delta said with a nod. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to help his host for, not with the Meta trying so desperately to get his hands on him. But it felt good to be able to do something for him that made the man so happy.

The fact he was finally using Delta’s proper name didn’t go unnoticed.


	2. Why is he still fighting?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Meta comes and Delta doesn't want to go.

Caboose was down. The Meta had taken him out. Not dead; definitely could use a healing unit. But Delta didn’t have one to run. Plus, he had some other things to deal with first.

 _“_ ĐɆⱠ₮₳…”

 **“** D҉e҉l҉t҉a҉…”

“ **C** **̸̭̗̺͂͂͑̓͐̓** **o** **̵̛͖̻̥̏̎͌̽̈́̽̚̕** **m** **̸̥̬͂͑̑̌͆̈͜͠** **e** **̴̘̜͎̥̬͇͓̥͙̪͊** **̵̅̏͒** **́** **̻͕̤̻͚͛ͅ** **w** **̴̭͎̽͌̽̔͠** **̦** **̠̼̙͜** **i** **̶** **̃** **͎͕̒̔̂͠** **t** **̵̍͒̒̍** **́** **̨̨̳̫͚̪̫͇͔̕** **h** **̵͙̎͗** **̶̡̥̝̝̖̤̓̔̈́̒̈́̑͒̚͝͝** **u** **̸** **̀** **̨͇̥͔͔͚͚̞̱̂** **s** **̴̯̖͕̜͍̑** **,** **̶̨̢̛̬̫̮̍͆͌͆̕** **̦** **̧̱** **̸̢̞̹̼̼̯̈̊̕͜͝** **D** **̶̊͒͗** **́** **͈͙** **̦** **e** **̴͙̳̜͖͑͝** **l** **̵̩̟̟̩̮̌͑̓̐͛̒͝** **t** **̵͔͙͂̓̏͆͛͂̆̈́̑͘͜** **a** **̸̛̮̥͛̄̈̐̂̈** **…”**

“J̴o̴i̴n̴ ̴u̴s̴…”

“ĐɆⱠ₮₳! ĐɆⱠ₮₳! ĐɆⱠ₮₳!

His siblings called to him. Their voices twisted around each other making it hard to hear one voice over the others. Theta was there, his childlike voice was easiest to pick out. Sigma and Gamma where there too. The others he knew to be Eta, Iota, and Omega but he didn’t know them well enough to separate their voices away. There was one other he didn’t recognize at the moment, but he knew they were like him, a fragment of a whole. Of the Alpha.

With his siblings in front of him like this, he wanted to join them. It felt rational to do so. They were each only a part. Together they could be whole.

He wouldn’t have to do anything. The Meta was already removing Caboose’s helmet so he could take Delta’s chip from the implant. Then they would be together again.

There wasn’t much he would be able to do to stop it anyways. He had already left a message in Caboose’s mind for Church to find. He was fairly certain things would work out in the end because of it. It would be alright if the Meta took him; if he let himself be swayed by his siblings’ siren-like calls. It would be alright to be part of something bigger once again.

It would be fine.

“…Delta…”

Delta snapped out of his trance-like state. That voice wasn’t one of his siblings.

It was Caboose.

Delta glanced over at him quickly, scanning through his suit’s monitoring systems while taking stock of what he saw. Eyes half open, foggy, face scrunched up in pain, a hand fighting gravity in an attempt to continue to fend off the Meta.

He was still conscious. Still fighting. But why? It was over. He couldn’t do anything. Delta couldn’t either.

“Don’t take…Delta…” Caboose ground out, hand finally making it to the Meta’s wrist. It was quickly swatted away but it was already starting its way back before it even hit the ground.

Why was he still fighting?

Unable to quell his curiosity, Delta integrated himself back into Caboose’s systems. He had separated at some point when his siblings started calling him, getting ready for the transfer, but that meant he wasn’t in Caboose’s mind anymore. Reintegrating himself would allow him to hear Caboose’s thoughts once again.

[-NONONONONO…] Caboose’s thoughts were loud, almost blowing Delta away as soon as he tuned back in. [Don’t take him! Please! You can’t take him.]

Delta could feel his panic as well as the pain that tried to fog it. But it didn’t shed any light on why he was still fighting.

[It will be fine,] he tried to tell Caboose in his mind, but the man was in too much of a panic to hear him. [It will work out.]

[Don’t take him. You can’t take him. Not again!] Caboose’s mind rattled on as images started to play in his mind.

“ _But why are you pulling him?”_ the memory of Caboose…no, Agent California said as scientists swirled around him. Fear and panic filled his thoughts then too. “ _I thought we were doing well.”_

 _“This was only a test for the implant,”_ a scientist explained flatly, uncaring about the subject’s feelings on the matter. _“You were never meant to keep him.”_

 _“I-I can do better. Please. Tell the Director I’ll do better. Just don’t take him,”_ California pleaded even as he allowed himself to be strapped to the examination table. _“Please don’t take Delta. Don’t take my AI.”_

 _“He isn’t your AI,”_ they said coldly, already turning away from the patient and towards a nearby machine.

 _“They are correct,”_ a memory of Delta appeared in his sight. Small and green. The real Delta could feel the comfort California felt at the sight of him. _“I was assigned to them to assist with building the Neural implants. It is only logical I go back and finish the task I was given.”_

 _“But Delta…”_ California said quietly, loneliness already flooding the memory. He knew the memory-Delta could feel it too. Delta _remembers_ feeling it.

 _“It would be unprofessional and ill-advised to leave my task incomplete,”_ memory-Delta stated, pausing a moment before continuing. _“But once it is complete, I will see if it is possible to be sent back to you.”_

 _“Really?”_ California asked, the hopefulness already starting to push back the loneliness from a moment ago. _“You’d really want to come back to me?”_

_“If it is possible, yes. I would prefer to be paired back with you.”_

Delta remembered that he had many reasons for wanting to be paired back with California, despite his lack of presence on the leader board. The two had worked well together, both covering each other’s faults with their own strengths. He also hadn’t trusted another AI to be careful enough with his implants, since there was no way to remove them without leaving him brain dead. But the most important reason, one he didn’t have an understanding of at the time, was simply that Delta had grown fond of him. He was a kind, happy person and Delta liked that about him.

 _“I would like that too,”_ California said with a shaky grin. He was still afraid, but the panic had faded. _“After all-“_

**_“you’re/he’s my friend!”_ **

The overlapping statement startled Delta out of the memory to find Caboose still struggling against the Meta. His hand was gripping the Meta’s arm with renewed strength as his head thrashed to keep him from getting access to the back of his neck.

Delta knew now why Caboose was still fighting, and it had little to do with the memory that got jogged loose.

The Meta growled in annoyance, finally using his free arm to knock the blue soldier unconscious.

The images and thoughts stopped abruptly, giving Delta the digital equivalent of whiplash. The only thing left was a few faint emotions that clung to the man even in sleep. Fear was one of them.

The Meta was reaching for his chip now, intent on pulling him whether he was ready or not. And a few seconds ago, Delta would have been ready. He would have let Meta pull him, coerced by his own logic and his siblings’ voices.

But this wasn’t a few seconds ago.

Delta had made a decision, changed his mind despite what reason told him. Because his host, his agent, his… friend? Yes, his friend had lost too much already. Delta would be damned if he lost him as well.

His thoughts rushed through plans rapidly, almost overlapping as they tried to come up with a way he could stay. If he were a full AI it would be easy, he could control Caboose’s armor himself or simply hide in its code. But Delta didn’t have those functions. He was a mere fragment. Just a piece of an old, broken puzzle.

But maybe that was a good thing. The Meta is only looking for a fragment. He would have no way of knowing how big that fragment should be.

It would be difficult, and not at all pleasant. He would not only have to split himself somehow, but he’d have to figure out how to jump his remaining coding directly into Caboose’s implants. He would have to leave his chip, something he’d only ever heard of Omega doing.

But he couldn’t leave Caboose alone again. Not after what happened the first time.

Delta gathered his coding together quickly, everything he was certain couldn’t lose and threw himself into the implant’s own storage. He could feel himself stretch back towards the pieces he left behind as a tether, that much was normal. But that’s where normality would end. This time this wasn’t going to end with him eventually following the tether back to his chip.

He wrapped himself around the storage unit, gripping it as tightly as he possibly could. It felt like forever before the Meta yanked the chip out of Caboose’s implant.

Coding stretched farther and farther as it was removed, until it couldn’t stretch anymore.

Then it ripped.

AI’s weren’t supposed to feel pain. They were only computer programs. But having approximately a fourth of his coding ripped out, _hurt._ It was unbearable. He had the faint thought of being glad Caboose was unconscious so that he couldn’t hear the fragment’s screams echoing through his mind.

The pain faded as the piece finally broke free, leaving the rest of him unsettled as he collected himself.

He watched vacantly through Caboose’s armor as the Meta put away his chip and started to leave without him.

Mission accomplished. At what cost? Delta wasn’t sure yet. He would have to figure that out later. He needs to rest. Recover. Stitch together what he had left since he didn’t exactly have an alien artifact to do it for him.

Delta released his hold on the storage device in favor of curling up around his own coding. Pulling the broken, much smaller code around him as he shut most of his faculties down, leaving only a few subroutines running to keep track of Caboose’s heath and consciousness. He wanted to be aware when Caboose woke, but that wouldn’t be for some time. Until then, he would sleep. He was tired. He deserved it.


	3. I became…damaged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Complications arise.

“-ere is Delta?” The words were wobbly, distorted as Delta slowly crawled back into consciousness. He could already feel confusion and the beginning of worry flowing around Caboose’s head even without being completely integrated into his implant yet.

Delta must have overslept. He didn’t like that. He was supposed to wake up right before Caboose had but apparently his subroutines had failed.

“He’s not here,” Agent Washington was explaining to Caboose. Delta felt confusion that wasn’t entirely Caboose’s. He was here. He survived. Why had they not noticed? “The Meta took him.”

“Took him? How could he take him? He’s a little green light. You can’t grab little green lights, Mr. Washtub. You should know that,” Caboose said with the utmost certainty. He may sound confident but Delta could feel his confusion still.

Delta still felt tired and stiff as he unwound himself, stretching back out into Caboose’s systems. All he really wanted to do was go back to sleep, but he needed to set things straight with Agent Washington. That meant operating Caboose’s speaker and hologram systems.

“Delta was stored in a chip. The chip he took. He’s gone,” Washington was starting to sound frustrated, which Delta could understand. Caboose wasn’t the easiest person to explain things to sometimes.

Delta froze, immediately ignoring the conversation happening outside in order to focus on what was happening inside. There was something wrong. Delta had operated many different hologram units and speakers in his short, electronic life. It was as easy as he imagined breathing was for humans.

But now he couldn’t.

Try as he might to interact with the systems he knew to be the right ones, he couldn’t. It felt like he could no longer touch it, no, that wasn’t quite right. It was more like his code was no longer compatible with it, as if the parts that had been able to do that, no longer existed.

Delta was frustrated. He knew he would lose some functions in the split, but he hadn’t intended outside communication to be one of them.

“He can’t be gone!” Caboose yelled, getting Delta’s attention back. The AI realized with a start that his own frustration was bleeding into Caboose’s mind unchecked. Caboose didn’t notice, thinking it his own. So Delta calmed himself, hoping it would cause Caboose to calm as well. It seemed to work a little, giving Washington some leeway to talk him the rest of the way down.

Delta focused back on the systems, backing regretfully away from the hologram and speaker functions to focus on the camera and microphone. If he couldn’t be seen and heard for himself, maybe he could at least see and hear the others outside of their echoes in Caboose’s head.

Delta was relieved as he tuned into Caboose’s suit camera and saw the outside. Washington was there, of course, talking to Caboose in frustrated yet calm tones as Church hid behind him, inching farther and farther away, presumably in case Caboose got angry. There were others here now too, what looked to be a few Red team simulation troopers that Caboose and Church were familiar with. At least he assumed so considering they were cowering behind Church, their fear-filled focus also on Caboose.

Delta vaguely wondered what Caboose could possibly do upon getting angry that made four grown men ready to bolt at his raised voice.

“He’s gone, Caboose. I’m sorry,” Washington stated once again.

“He’s coming back, right?” Caboose questioned. The man’s frustration was gone, getting replaced with sadness now. “When we stop the Metal man, I’ll get him back, right?”

“We’ll have to see when that happens,” Washington said with a sigh. Delta knew that Washington didn’t think it was possible. But it was easier to say that then to try to convince him otherwise right now.

“Ok, thank you Mr. Washingtub,” Caboose said back happily.

“Agent.”

“Mr. Agent Washingtub.”

“That’s as close as you’re gonna get, dude,” Church told him. “He still calls Donut ‘Private McMuffin’ and those two have been close friends for years. They’ve even had sleepovers and all that shit.”

“I still don’t know how Donut convinced Sarge to let even a single ‘dirty blue’ into Red Base for those either,” the orange one said with a shake of his helmet.

“It’s one of life’s great mysteries,” the maroon one answered back. “Right between ‘why are we here’ and whatever the fuck a platypus is.”

“Alright everyone, you have five minutes to pack up what you need, then we’re leaving,” Washington said, making everyone grumble.

“Five minutes? That’s not even enough time for a nap!” The orange one yelled indignantly.

“That’s the point,” Washington said dryly, leaving the simulation troupers to their own devises.

“That guy’s a dick.”

“Yeah, no fucking shit,” Church scoffed.

The rest grumbled, wandering off to collect what they needed. In no time, Caboose was the only one left in the area. He stood there for a while sadness and confusion swirled around in his mind. He was also…lonely? Oh. He missed Delta.

Luckily that was something Delta could fix. Delta might not be able to communicate with the outside world, but he should still be able to speak with Caboose in his mind.

Delta reintegrated himself completely into Caboose’s implants, picking up more and more of his surface thoughts as he did. He had been right, he missed Delta already.

[Caboose?] Delta called tentatively, startling the man.

“Delta?!” Caboose called out loud, looking around frantically for the little green hologram that was usually there. Delta was more than a little relieved he could still be heard this way. “Where are you?”

[I’m in your head,] Delta tried to explain, but he could tell it was already not working well.

“Oh my God! My thoughts sound like Delta? I never knew!”

[No, that’s not…I am actually here. In your mind. Speaking to you,] Delta explained a little slower. Caboose was still confused. Delta tried again. York used to say that the third time was the charm. Hopefully that still held true. [I am speaking in such a way that you cannot hear me with your ears.]

“Oh! I’m hearing you with my brain ears then? That’s so cool!” Caboose exclaimed, clapping happily. “If I can hear you with my brain ears, can I talk to you with my brain mouth?”

[If by “brain mouth” you mean your own thoughts, then yes. I will be able to hear them,] Delta said.

[Cool,] Caboose thought in awe.

[Yes, I believe this could be deemed as cool,] Delta said back.

[But Washing-mashine said they took your fries and couldn’t come back because you had to go get lunch with your brothers.]

Delta wasn’t sure how Caboose had come to that conclusion but he let it be.

[The Meta did indeed take my chip, but I had not been inclined to entirely go with it,] Delta said simply.

[So you left it? Like Omega does?] Caboose questioned.

[Yes,] Delta said, feeling Caboose’s pride at being right. If Delta could smile at the pure happiness he felt from the man, he would be grinning. [Though I had not been designed to jump in such a way. When I did, I became…damaged.]

[You’re hurt?] Caboose asked, concern making itself known.

[Yes, but I should be able to repair myself over time, at least a little,] Delta explained. [It is unclear if I will be able to recover the functions I lost. At this moment in time, I can no longer manipulate your suit for any purpose, even just to utilize your hologram or speaker systems. I am only able to speak to you like this.]

[Only brain ears.]

[Yes, only brain ears.]

[Can you…still help me know stuff?] Caboose asked tentatively.

[I told you I would as long as I remained with you,] Delta said. [One of the reasons I stayed was so I could keep that promise. Another was that I did not wish to leave you a second time.]

[Second time? You were with me before?] Caboose questioned. Delta paused a moment. The memory that had been jogged loose earlier today must have already faded back into obscurity. But that was alright. This is why he stayed after all.

[Yes, back in Project Freelancer. We were partnered for a week before I had to leave,] Delta explained.

[In that case, I’m happy you stayed this time,] Caboose said with an earsplitting grin. [I would be sad if you were gone.]

[I know. I would be…disappointed if I were to leave as well.]

“You mean it?!” Caboose exclaimed out loud, making a nearby Red shriek in surprise.

[Yes,] Delta answered back, Caboose’s excitement apparently infectious. [There is no place I would rather be.]


	4. I am confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta gets used to the oddities that are the Red's and Blue's daily life

[This…does not make sense,] Delta said after a long pause. The Reds and Blues had somehow ended up in Valhalla about a week ago. It had taken about that long for everyone to get settled into their respective bases. Delta couldn’t really understand why they were leaving Caboose on his own in Blue Base, but Caboose didn’t seem to be complaining so he left it be. He was more worried about Caboose’s new plan to fight off boredom than living arangements anyways.

“That’s alright, Delta. Things aren’t supposed to make sense,” Caboose said.

[Yes, they are.]

“Well, it makes sense to me.”

[Then I would be very grateful if you explained it to me.]

“This was Tex’s old robot body. AI’s can live in robot bodies. If I fix the robot body with pieces of Sheila’s pelican body, then Epsilon will have a body to live in once he wakes up from his nap!” Caboose announced, already heading over to the downed ship halfway across canyon. “Then I’ll have a super awesome best robot friend!”

[Pelican class ships are not compatible with any humanoid robots,] Delta explained. [I highly doubt it is possible to repair it in that way.]

“But Church is going to need a body when he wakes up,” Caboose pouted. “Can’t I try?”

[You can try, but I am uncertain how well it will work,] Delta relented after a long pause. [You are the engineer after all, not me.]

“I was?”

[You were a Combat Engineer while in Project Freelancer,] Delta explained. [Your standard missions usually involved sabotaging enemy equipment, repairing equipment while on mission, or occasionally arming/disarming bombs.]

“That sounds complicated.”

[You did well on your own, but with my assistance the job was much easier.]

“Neat,” Caboose said. “Hey, is that Simmons?”

[You would know better than me. I am not entirely certain which Simmons is.]

“Oh, he’s maroon.”

[Then yes, that would be Simmons,] Delta stated. [He looks as if he is trying to spy on Blue Base but I find it hard to believe that anyone would stand in the middle of a canyon like that to do so.]

“It’s fine. They spy like that all the time.”

[From the middle of the canyon?]

“Sometimes. They’re allowed to spy as long as they’re not being nosey. Then I take away their spying privileges,” Caboose said with a shrug. “I’m going to go say hi.”

[While he’s spying on you,] Delta questioned flatly while still trying to figure out what Caboose had meant by ‘spying privileges.’

“If I wait until later, he won’t be there and I’m not allowed in Red Base. Sarge is very clear about that. I’m only allowed when Mr. Crumpet has sleepovers.” Caboose changed course towards Simmons without a second thought.

Simmons didn’t seem to notice Caboose’s approach up until the Blue soldier was standing right in front of him.

“Hello,” Caboose said, making Simmons yell and jump backwards.

“Caboose! What are you doing out here? Go back to your base, I’m supposed to be spying on you!”

“You’re not going to invade, are you? I’m really busy right now so maybe next week will be better.”

“No, I’m… trying to figure out how you got your electricity running,” Simmons admitted, a little grudgingly. “Ours doesn’t work.”

[They _are_ supposed to be your enemies, correct?] Delta questioned, watching Caboose interact with the Red, his mood quite happy.

This didn’t fit what he knew of the soldiers. If Reds were supposed to be their enemies now that they have bases once again, why were they still so friendly with one another? And if they were no longer hostile towards one another, then why were they even attempting to act like enemies? It made no logical sense to him.

“Yes, very much!” Caboose answered out loud and most likely confusing Simmons in the process. “Oh Simmons, you mean the invisible magic that turns on the lights, right?”

Simmons sighed, sounding exasperated.

“It’s been called that.”

“Then mine was on when I got here.”

“Damn it, thanks anyways.”

“If you have a really long cord, I’ll share mine with you,” Caboose offered.

“Thanks but I doubt Sarge would allow it. And who would own an extension cord the length of our gulch?”

“Someone that needed to share their invisible magic with their Red enemy friends?”

“Um sure, I guess. Where would they get it, though?”

“The store?”

[I doubt you could buy an extension cord that long at just any store. The best you would be able to do is connect several together but that would risk water getting into the juncture points and frying the cords,] Delta pointed out. [It would be best if they continued to simply look into the cause of their own generator failure.]

“But the store’s sell everything,” Caboose said sagely. “Mr. Applefritters even bought the Blue Flag from the store once.”

“No, that was Blue Base. He just _thought_ it was the store,” Simmons said, his tone growing more frustrated as he went. “You should know, you were _there._ You ‘sold’ it to him.”

“That was the best store we ever had.”

“It wasn’t a store!” Simmons exclaimed.

[I am confused,] Delta said after a long moment. His confusion only grew when he noticed an orange speck seemingly climbing up the Red Base tower. [Ask Simmons why the orange soldier is climbing their base without safety gear?]

“Is that Grif on the tower?” Caboose pointed towards the orange speck as a smaller speck of a bird started swooping nearby him. They could hear the man’s screams of ‘shoo bird!’ from there.

“Sarge’s orders, I’m sure. God knows he wouldn’t put in that much effort unless the shotgun was aimed at him,” Simmons said with a sigh. He sounded more exasperated then concerned. “I should probably report in. Bye Caboose.”

“Bye Simmons!” Caboose waved before heading towards the pelican once again.

[Is that…considered normal?] Delta asked after a long pause.

“Yeah, that’s just Red Team. They like to play fun games but not let me join in their fun games.”

[I believe that is for the best,] Delta commented, seeing several grenades explode near where Grif had stopped climbing.

“Sarge says his best game was when he turned Simmons into a cyborg and gave all his spare people parts to Grif!”

[That should not be physically possible.]

“But they did it! Simmons has a cool, robot eye now, and Grif has both brown _and_ green eyes!”

Delta stayed silent, his poor AI mind trying to process the shear impossibility, and stupidity of what normally happened in Red Base. It didn’t help when a rather large explosion went off at the top of their tower, launching Grif even higher into the air before coming back down hard.

“It wasn’t me,” Caboose said immediately.

[I think they may have lost their orange team member,] Delta said slowly.

“Nah, Grif can’t die,” Caboose stated, waiting a moment until Grif did indeed climb to his feet once again. Delta could only stare. “See? He’s fine.”

[I…am _very_ confused,] Delta said.

“That’s ok, Delta. You’ll get used to it.”

[I very much doubt that I will.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact of the chapter! I completely forgot that it would probably take Delta a bit to get used to the strange/illogical ways of the Reds and Blues. I was since reminded of this and had to add this chapter in as a result. THANKS PIP GISH! : )


	5. Can you fix it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta solves a problem and discovers more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: non-graphic missing limbs. kinda. not sure if i really need this warning but eh. here it is anyways.
> 
> also edits done 9/29/2020. just some things that didn't quite sit right with me. (specifically last conversation. I fixed it.)

Caboose was having nightmares.

They had started about two weeks into their stay at Valhalla and have been a constant, unwelcome companion every night since. He would wake up gasping for breath with tears streaming down his face, unable to go back to sleep for fear of them coming back. But he hadn’t once remembered what they had been about upon waking up.

Delta was concerned.

[Caboose, I would like to take a look inside your mind once again,] Delta asked delicately. It was still the middle of the night, but after another such nightmare, neither would be getting anymore sleep regardless. It was to the point where Caboose was only functioning off of the occasional catnaps he’d have throughout the day. Something had to be done.

“But you’re in my head. You can’t leave,” Caboose mumbled tiredly from his spot in the kitchen area. He sat at the island counter on a stool tall enough that even someone as tall as Caboose could kick their feet without touching the ground. He usually did; the fact that his feet were still was a testament to how tired he was. Delta couldn’t see it directly without Caboose in his armor but he didn’t need to at the moment.

[I wish to delve deeper, like I had before,] Delta explained. Caboose’s confusion prompted him to continue. [Do you remember the stone room in your mind?]

“Yes. Church used to go there a lot.”

[I wish to go there, to see if there is something I can do about your nightmares.]

“Will it help? I don’t like having scary/sad dreams when I sleep.”

[That is unclear. But I believe having a look around would, at the very least, not hurt matters.]

“Ok then. You can go to the stone room,” Caboose agreed.

Delta sent him a feeling of gratitude before carefully delving farther into the implant.

Upon entering the room, Delta immediately fell to the floor in a confused heap. He laid there for a long moment, trying to figure out how he ended up like this. He knew he got a physical form when he entered Caboose’s mind this deep, but it had never dropped him to the floor upon entering.

Delta looked down at his form, surprised to find his standard armor missing. Instead, he was wearing an outfit similar to what he remembered the Director would wear, except in his own green color. He was concerned at what this might mean, but that soon became the least of his worries. A moment after noticing his lack of armor, he picked up on a few more pressing inconsistencies in this form.

He was missing limbs.

One leg was missing from where his knee should be down, and both of his hands were missing from the wrists. He stared at the missing limb, watching the stumps glitch like a broken computer program.

Which, in reality, was exactly what he was.

He sat there for a while, his form occasionally flashing red as he tried to make sense of it all.

“Delta? Are you in here?” Caboose’s voice echoed across the room, somewhere close. Delta pulled his gaze away from static ended limbs with some difficulty, finding Caboose rounding the corner.

He was out of his armor, wearing the pajamas he had worn to bed (a Pumpkin Pete tee-shirt, blue sweatpants, and bunny slipper). Short blond curls in chaos across the top of his head, his greyish blue eyes widening as he noticed Delta’s broken form.

“Delta! You’re hurt!” He exclaimed, rushing to the AI’s side, hands hovering over him like he didn’t know what to do from there. “What happened?!”

“They are from an old injury,” Delta explained, his voice shakier than he intended. “I was injured when I escaped the Meta.”

“You jumped out of your chip and it hurt you,” Caboose stated.

“Yes. Though I did not realize those injuries would show themselves here,” Delta stated, looking back at his missing hands.

“Can you fix it?” Caboose asked tentatively.

“I…do not know. The damage is worse than I predicted it would be.”

“If you need to leave the stone room, that’s ok,” Caboose said with a kind smile. “The bad dreams aren’t really that bad.”

“No, that’s fine. I can still look into your nightmares,” Delta said, shaking himself out of his revelry as his form finally settled back to just green. He went to get up, only to remember why he was on the floor to begin with. “I will need assistance getting around-“

Before he had finished what would have been a question, Caboose had already scooped him into his arms intent on carrying him wherever they needed to go.

“Where we going?” Caboose asked with a grin. Delta stared at him for a long moment before motioning towards the area most of his memories were kept. It was also the most damaged part of the room.

“Starting over there would be best.”

“OK!”

Caboose wandered towards the damage as Delta studied the room with a critical eye, looking for anything that would be causing these nightmares. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, with everything being exactly like he left it right down to the cracks in some of the blocks.

“Ok, we’re here,” Caboose announced, bringing Delta’s attention to what they stopped in front of. This entire section had been destroyed. The large blocks were little more than rubble with large pieces of the ceiling laying on top of them, leaving a dark void where it used to be.

Delta signaled to be put down, eyes never leaving the rubble as he was shifted to stand on his remaining leg. Caboose kept a firm grip on his arm to help with balance, which Delta was thankful for. Most of the rubble seemed the same as he last saw it, not a pebble out of place. But this section to his left, that wasn’t quite right. Some of it had shifted, a single, foot wide piece had been knocked free of the pile, leaving an even smaller gap into the underneath.

Delta crouched down to peer into the small hole, only to get immediately bombarded with fuzzy images playing across his eyes.

_“Agent California, you’re being assigned a new AI,_ ” The Director said, focusing on the large computer screen in front of him instead of the Agent standing behind him. Delta could feel California’s eagerness to prove himself, as well as the simple need to be noticed by the man.

_“I’m only fifteenth on the leaderboard, sir. Why am I being given an AI when the top eight have yet to finish receiving theirs?”_ California asked.

Delta was certain the Director would snap at him, as he did with all agents that dared question him. Judging by the Counselor’s tense stance, he thought so as well. But he didn’t.

_“Freelancer is in need of a skilled Engineer that can work well under pressure but can still fight when needed. You have shown skill in both,”_ the Director explained. _“During your brief time with Delta, those skills improved dramatically. We need that efficiency now more than ever.”_

_“I understand, Sir,”_ California said.

_“Good,”_ the Director stated, tapping a button on a nearby control panel and summoning up a small, grey hologram that filled Delta with dread. _“This is Omega. He will be your new AI from this point on.”_

_“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Omega. I’m looking forward to working with you,”_ California said with a large smile.

_“Fool,”_ Omega said after a moment, hologram disappearing a moment later, leaving California confused.

_“Omega can be… temperamental,”_ the Councilor said, stepping forward to explain. _“Give him some time and I am certain he will warm up to you.”_

The Director had yet to look at him.

The scene changed, melting into the _Mother of Invention_ ’s mess hall where California sat rubbing his forehead, trying to get rid of his headache.

A hand dropped onto his shoulder, startling him back to the present with a pat. California watched as Illinois took the seat next to him.

_“You good, man?”_ He asked, looking concerned.

_“Yeah, just a headache,”_ California tried to brush it off, pulling his food tray back towards him despite not being hungry.

_“Your AI acting up again?”_ Illinois questioned. Delta was glad someone had been looking out for him.

_“He’s just settling in. That’s all.”_

_“He’s been ‘settling in’ for over a week. Your last one wasn’t like this,”_ he pointed out. When California didn’t respond, he sighed. _“I’m just saying, maybe you should have medbay take a look. It doesn’t sound right, man.”_

_“I’ll think about it.”_

The scene blead away again until California was in his room, lights off with a hand pulling at his hair while the other lay in his lap heavily bandaged. His head hurt as a feeling of failure swirled inside it. But there was no sign of Omega, which California seemed to be thankful for.

A knock at his door got him to look up though he didn’t move otherwise.

_“Hey Cal, I heard about the mission. Just wanted to check on yah. See how you’re doing,”_ York’s voice called through the closed door, startling Delta. His was one of the last voices he expected to hear.

California didn’t answer, his uninjured hand fisting in his hair.

_“Ok, actually Delta was worried about you. Said you don’t normally freeze like that on mission and was concerned something might be wrong.”_

California stayed silent, flinching at the word ‘freeze,’ and making his negative feelings only increase.

_“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you be,”_ York said tentatively. _“Just, don’t blame yourself too much, ok? Everyone has off days.”_

Footsteps started away from the door, Delta wishing he hadn’t left for California’s sake. He felt conflicted about something.

After a few seconds California seemed to come to a decision, darting to his feet and powering open the door to see a startled York turning back around. He looked as Delta remembered him, young and kind, giving the little AI a feeling he couldn’t quite name.

_“York, your AI,_ ” California started, pausing for a long moment as he almost lost his nerve. He continued regardless. _“Delta. Has he ever…left?”_

The scene swirled away again, until California was alone in the locker room. He was only half out of his armor as he sat on a nearby bench, his hands on either side of his head like he was trying to keep the pain from splitting it apart.

**_“Weak! Useless! Waste of space!”_** Angry words echoed throughout his mind, each emphasized by a pulse of pain. California could barely keep his whimpering to himself, which only made Omega that much angrier.

An armored boot tapped his ankle. He barely noticed.

_“What’s wrong, kid?”_ A voice asked. California didn’t respond but Delta could easily recognize that it belonged to Tex. _“Injured? Need a medic?”_

Omega quieted in Tex’s presence, but the pain continued. California couldn’t find the words to answer her.

_“Fuck it. I’m calling a medic.”_

_“AI…”_ California finally ground out, making Tex pause before getting to the intercom.

_“Don’t have an AI, kid.”_

_“Mine. He’s…mad. So mad. Always. About everything,”_ California admitted, sobs finally escaping between words. _“Takes it out… on me. Hurts. My head.”_

_“Damn it, Omega.”_ Tex knelt down so California could see her helmet through blurred eyes. _“Pull him.”_

_“Won’t help, he just…jumps back…without the chip. Makes it…worse. I don’t…”_ California’s eyes squeezed shut. _“I don’t-“_

_“Then pull him and give him to me,”_ she said again. California’s eyes shot back open to stare at her. _“He already spends time in my armor. Whenever he’s not with you. If you give him to me, I’m certain he won’t bother you anymore.”_

_“He’ll hurt you instead.”_

_“I don’t have an implant. Just the suit. He can’t hurt me like this if he tried,”_ Tex reassured.

_“But the Director-“_

_“Fuck the Director,”_ Tex said forcefully. Delta didn’t think California could be any more surprised if he tried. _“This thing is_ hurting _you. It could have already caused you permanent damage. If you leave it where it is, you could end up a vegetable.”_

California stared in shock, tears streaming down his face. Tex sighed, hesitating a moment before using the side of her hand to wipe them away.

_“Look, as far as you’re concerned, the following conversation never happened. But… you’re a good kid. Brilliant with that engineer shit,”_ Tex said, gentler than Delta ever heard her. _“So don’t let this petty little AI steal that from you. I’ll handle the Director. I promise you won’t get in trouble for this. Ok?”_

_“Yeah,”_ California said after a moment, a tentative hand going towards his implant. _“Ok-“_

Delta got yanked away from the gap, Caboose and him stumbling back several feet before falling to the ground. The images where gone, leaving Delta a little shaky. Judging by Caboose’s heavy breathing, he saw the whole thing as well.

“I…don’t like that scary hole,” Caboose said quietly after a long moment.

“Those were your memories,” Delta explained, getting a handle on everything as he spoke. “More specifically, those were your memories of the AI you had at the end of your stay at Freelancer. It must have come loose because of the Meta attack, or possibly just my extended presence with you brought it about. In any case, I believe we found the source of your nightmares.”

“I…had Omega before,” Caboose said slowly. “I was already hurt before Blood Gulch. Then, when Tex died, he did it again. But worse.”

“That does seem to be the case,” Delta stated, sitting up on the ground to glance around the environment. “He seemed to aim most of his aggression the second time at your memories of Freelancer, which would explain why you have the most trouble recalling them. If you would like, we could try to clear the rubble away to see if it will give you better access to them. Though it is unclear what side effects that may cause since the rubble would have to go somewhere, or even if the memories would be accessible at all.”

“What’s the probability?” Caboose asked. Delta glanced back over towards him, finding the man sitting up now, his head tilting curiously. Delta paused.

“What?”

“What’s the probability it would work? Like with numbers,” Caboose questioned.

“It would be…” Delta’s mind came up blank. He tried again. “It would be…” Still nothing appeared. No calculations ran like lightning in his mind, no answer appearing at the end. It was just…blank. Delta wasn’t sure how to take this. “I’m sorry, Caboose. I do not know the exact percentage.”

“That’s ok, Delta,” Caboose said with a smile. It really wasn’t, but Delta didn’t press the issue. “I…um…I don’t think I want to move the rubble. I don’t really like not knowing stuff, but I’m alright not remembering everything as long as I know what I don’t remember. And you help me with that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then I don’t want them unburied, Ok?”

“That is a perfectly acceptable choice,” Delta assured. “Do you want this hole fixed as well? It should solve your reoccurring nightmares.”

“Yes, I want to sleep,” Caboose said as he climbed to his feet. Delta walked him through how to cover the hole, using the piece of rubble that should have been there to begin with. Delta nodded in approval once it was done.

“Done?”

“Yes, we are done.”

“Can we leave now and go to sleep to see if it worked?” Caboose asked, sounding excited at the prospect of something larger than an hour nap.

“Yes, that would be most useful,” Delta said, his thoughts still elsewhere.

He exited the room, pulling back into his normal state as Caboose headed back to his bedroom, babbling excitedly about the possible dreams he may have without the bad influences. Delta half listened, making sure his thoughts were quiet so not to impede Caboose’s good mood, or ability to fall asleep.

Once Caboose was asleep in his bed, Delta let himself focus on what he hadn’t wanted to.

He hadn’t been able to calculate that possibility. It should have been easy, it normally was. This sort of thing was something he would often do for his own entertainment. Why couldn’t he do that now?

Delta tried a few more, going simpler and simpler with each failed calculation passed. He spent most of the night doing so, trying almost desperately to get an answer. But everything came up blank. It wasn’t until several hours later and well into the morning, that Delta stopped, finally coming to the conclusion he had been avoiding all night.

He hadn’t just lost the ability to manipulate equipment when he split, he also lost the ability to do math.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact of the Chapter: Every difference in Delta's humanoid form is for a very specific reason and not just for kicks. some are pretty obvious. Some haven't come into play yet. *cue maniacal laughter*


	6. You can't compare sad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta starts learning emotions

“Delta, what do you wanna do today?” Caboose asked, sliding his helmet over his head. It clicked into place, allowing Delta to have a proper view of the outside once again. Which, at the moment, was the Blue Base kitchen. It had been a few days since Caboose’s last nightmare and though Caboose himself was feeling a lot better, do to the AI’s own revelations, Delta was not.

[I have no opinion on what today’s activities should entail,] Delta said distractedly. [I am simply here to help you with whatever task you decide for today.]

“What about working on the robot body again? I can get more parts from the ship! That way when Epsilon wakes up, he’ll have a body too. And he’ll be happy and say I’m the bestest friend in the world. And that then we’ll go get ice cream,” Caboose said, already heading out of the base.

[You will have to finish fixing the body first,] Delta said.

“Oh I know that. Maybe later today we can tell Epsilon some more stories. He likes when we tell him stories. And the stories are always better when you help me tell them.”

[I will try my best to be of assistance.]

Caboose hummed happily on his way to the ship, pausing only to have a brief conversation with Simmons and Grif. Delta ignored the conversation, only keeping track of it to ensure that it wasn’t going to turn hostile. He doubted it would since these particular Reds didn’t seem to care about their simulation war, but it never hurt to be prepared. Delta actually wished they would interact with Caboose a little more often, instead of their weekly failed raid and the occasional conversations while out on “patrol”. Caboose needed to talk with people more, people that weren’t broken AIs like himself and Epsilon.

Soon enough Caboose wandered away from the pair and began working on finding useful parts on the ship. Delta let him work in silence. It was almost pleasant watching Caboose work on the ship. It reminded him of few missions they did together in Freelancer, though with less bullets flying and no time restraints.

Even though his skills were not what they used to be, the work seemed to make Caboose content as well. He was simply happy to be working on something again even if it was just picking apart a pelican for parts.

“Delta, what’s wrong?” Caboose asked after they had been there a little while.

[Nothing,] Delta answered after a short pause. [You are doing everything correctly.]

“I know that,” Caboose said, pulling a piece out of the ship to check if it was still functional. “I mean what’s wrong with you?”

[I do not know what you are asking?]

“You’ve been sad,” Caboose answered, setting the piece into the keep pile. “I know because I’ve been feeling sad but I know it’s not my sad so it has to be yours.”

[I am not sad. But I will try to do better at keeping my thoughts to myself in the future,] Delta said, hoping to avoid the problem. That was not to be.

“I don’t mind. It’s alright to be sad sometimes,” Caboose said with a smile. “I get sad whenever Church dies. Or leaves. Or leaves and then dies. You can be sad too.”

[I am an artificial intelligence unit designed to assist special agents in battle. I was not programed to be sad,] Delta tried to reason, but he already knew it would fail. Caboose had never let reason stand in the way of anything, even in Freelancer.

“AIs change,” Caboose said like it would explain everything. “You are sad, right?”

Delta took a moment to think, unsure of the answer himself. Was he sad? He wasn’t sure. He felt…something. It was heavy, and mentally taxing. He felt something similar when York had passed but he hadn’t had the chance to dwell on them. Now he was feeling it again, but much more distinctly.

Delta pushed his self-reflection to the side. It was doing nothing but confusing him. Instead he looked at the problem from a different angle.

If a living person with real emotions, had just: lost their partner, gotten kidnapped, reunited with a close coworker who no longer remembered them due to severe brain damage, almost got kidnaped _again_ , got severely wounded in their escape, ended up unable to communicate with the outside world, lost most of their siblings to an explosion, and, to make matters worse, lost their ability to perform the one task that they found entertaining, if not comforting…would they be sad?

Looking at it that way, well the answer was perfectly clear.

[Yes, I appear to be sad,] Delta said, a little in awe of his own answer.

“What are you sad about?”

[A lot of things, it would seem,] Delta said slowly. He watched Caboose move onto a new control panel, his practiced hands using tools to remove the screws as if on autopilot.

“What’s making you sad now?”

[I…discovered over the last few days that I am no longer able to run the calculations I once enjoyed,] Delta explained. [It is an inconsequential thing that, compared to everything else I have witnessed recently, should not be as prominent as it is.]

“Running with a calendar?”

[Running calculations,] Delta corrected, continuing when he sensed Caboose’s confusion. [I can no longer do math.]

“And it makes you sad?”

[Yes.]

“Then it is not…whatever it is you said before,” Caboose said, ignoring his own pause as he continued. “If it’s making you sad then it must be important.”

[Compared to everything else-]

“You can’t compare sad, Delta,” Caboose stated adamantly, slamming his screwdriver down with a clank. “Your sad because you can’t do math. That’s ok. I’m sometimes sad because Church died. But that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to be sad that I left my comfy socks in Blood Gulch when I moved,” Caboose said, somehow making sense to the little AI. “You can’t compare sad.”

[I think I understand what you are trying to say,] Delta said slowly. [I am not overly familiar with the concept of strong emotions, particularly when they are my own.]

“That’s alright. No one knows everything,” Caboose said, picking up his screwdriver to get back to work. “Do you want to talk about it? Talking about emotions helps sometimes, especially if you have someone to listen. Like you have me.”

[If you think it will help, then I can make an attempt,] Delta stated slowly. He thought for a moment. [Though I am unsure where to start.]

“What makes you so sad about not doing math?” Caboose questioned.

[Running calculations was a frequently used skill while in Freelancer, both in the field and out,] Delta explained. [It was also a task I enjoyed doing in my free time. It was a good distraction and a source of comfort.]

“Like me and my building stuff?” Caboose said, waving his screwdriver happily.

[Yes,] Delta agreed. [Without the ability to run calculations as I once did, I am ultimately useless.]

“No, you’re not.”

[I am little more than a broken machine. I am useless.]

“Broken doesn’t mean useless,” Caboose said, his tone almost scolding. “I’m broken but I’m not useless.”

[You are not broken. You were hurt and are simply different than before.]

“You said I was in Freelancer. I don’t remember it like you do. But I know I was really, really good building stuff. I’m not very good at that anymore. I’m broken,” Caboose explained, setting down his tool to give Delta his undivided attention. “But that’s alright. I don’t need to be good with building stuff to be your friend. And you don’t need to be a good calculator to be mine. We’re still friends, even if we’re both broken.”

[…Thank you, Caboose,] Delta said, feeling a little lighter than he had in days. [You have been surprisingly informative.]

“I’m good at being a friend,” Caboose said with a smile.

[Yes, I believe you are.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew a [Freelancer Caboose](https://tblsomedoodles.tumblr.com/post/630252906483941376/agent-californiaaka-past-freelancer-caboose-i) for this fic if you want to check it out


	7. Hello, Agent Texas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short conversation

Caboose didn’t intentionally keep Delta’s existence a secret. It was simply that no one had bothered to ask. Delta was sure someone would pick up on his presence eventually but no matter how many times Caboose talked to him out loud around others, or he helped him keep track of memories, no one questioned it.

Even when Caboose told Donut he ‘had a person on the inside’ or when his explanation to how he transferred Epsilon into the orb was only ‘Delta helped.’ The Reds and Blues shrugged and went on with their adventure. Maybe they had gotten used to the weird things Caboose often came out with, or they just weren’t listening to begin with.

But Delta was oddly alright with this outcome, as strange as it was. Since no one bothered to question Caboose, it meant no one else really wondered what he was up to. Not that he could get up to much, but it was nice not to be constantly policed for one in his existence.

“Armor lock engaged,” F.I.L.S.S announced happily, causing every single fighter on the impromptu battle field to freeze on the spot. Angry groans and colorful language could be heard through Caboose’s comms that both amused Delta and worried Caboose.

“Uh, I didn’t do that! It wasn’t me!” Caboose announced loudly. Everyone began cursing again at once, the only voices missing being that of Epsilon and Tex. Delta wasn’t the only one to notice this. “Um. Why can’t I hear Church?”

[He is an AI. He and Tex were likely put into Recovery mode upon armor lock being engaged,] Delta explained.

“Are they alright?” Caboose asked, turning off his radio as he spoke. The silence was nice though Delta doubted the others agreed.

[Yes, most certainly,] Delta stated. He could still feel Caboose’s worry in spite of his words. [Would you like me to make sure?]

“Can you?” Caboose asked, already perking up.

[You would have to connect your implant with the terminal but yes, I should be able to check their current states.]

“OK, I can do that,” Caboose said. He paused for a moment as he looked around. “How do I do that?”

[There is a cable hanging off the wall to your right,] Delta pointed out. [It should be combatable with both systems.]

Caboose grabbed the cable, examining it carefully with a frown, but plugging it into the terminal regardless. “Delta, this won’t hurt you, right?”

[I will be fine. Just…do not unplug the cable until I tell you to.]

“Ok,” Caboose said cheerfully. He removed his helmet, setting it aside so to have access to his implant. It took a couple tries but eventually Delta felt the digital equivalent of a door appear in his storage unit.

Delta took a moment to steady himself. Last time he stretched to another unit, he lost a great deal of coding. Though it had been an intentional loss, he still felt weary about leaving himself open to risk a repeat. He wasn’t sure he had enough code to continue functioning through a second split. He was only a fragment after all.

He shook those thoughts away before diving through the cable’s digital doorway. His coding stretched behind him uncomfortably, no longer use to interacting with anything farther away than the camera on Caboose’s helmet. He figured he wouldn’t have very long before he had to go back, so he would have to be quick.

Once in the terminal, he took a brief look around. He needed to find where the connections were to the recovery units were located but he also wanted to see what information was stored here.

Apparently, they had damn near everything stored there, much to Delta’s delight. From mission reports to personnel files to even the Director’s personal logs. Anything the little AI could want to know about Project Freelancer was stored right there in front of him.

If he could access it.

Delta hesitated, his good mood fading. He knew how broken his code was. He couldn’t operate a suit or simply add and subtract. Was it possible for him to interact with these files? Could he copy them and take them with him?

Could he even read them?

Delta wasn’t sure he wanted to try. If he was able to do it, he would be happy. Relieved. It would be one thing he hadn’t lost in his escape. But if he couldn’t…

There was a feeling he had about this. He couldn’t quite name it. He had felt it at the prospect of jumping through the cable as well. He had labeled it as ‘being weary’ but he was pretty sure it was more than that. It felt tight, restricting, causing him to want to retreat back into his storage unit and hide from the world.

But he didn’t have time for that right now.

Deciding to ask Caboose about it later, he pushed through this feeling and tried to interact with the file. A personnel file of Agent Carolina revealed itself at his command. Delta relaxed, closing up the file and setting it back with the others. He went to work copying everything he could get his hands on and sending it back to the suit’s storage so he could go through it later. As he was doing that, he continued on to find the Recovery units. Two were in use currently; one for each of the AIs whose armor was currently frozen.

Epsilon was talking with F.I.L.S.S, trying to convince her to do something from inside the unit. He seemed to be frustrated but otherwise fine. Delta was certain he would be released sooner rather than later considering who the computer program thought he was.

Tex, on the other hand, seemed to be sulking. Well, maybe sulking was not the correct term. She was agitated, pacing back and forth in her unit, ready to continue the fight as soon as she was back in armor. She was not taking the confinement well at all.

Delta figured that she might benefit from having a brief conversation. Something to reassure her that the Reds and Blues were not her enemy.

Making sure all the files were still being transferred, he slipped into Tex’s recovery unit, immediately stumbling upon finding himself in a physical form. Still without armor, and still missing limbs. But he was at least thankful he had kept his balance this time.

“Who the hell are you?!” Tex demanded, approaching him hostilely.

Delta’s form flashed red in alarm before settling back to green. She wouldn’t hurt him. She can’t. Not here. Her steps stuttered to a stop upon seeing the color change.

“Hello Agent Texas. It is a pleasure to meet you again, though I wish it were under better circumstances,” he said. Delta tried to appear as professional as possible despite the fact he was using a nearby wall to help keep his balance.

“Delta? But you were…” She paused in thought. “Is this a trick from Epsilon? I already told him I didn’t want to talk to him so now he’s sending memory fragments?”

“No, Epsilon does not know he how to consciously call upon his memory of the others yet, though I presume he will figure it out soon. He was able to create you, after all,” Delta pointed out.

“Yeah, and I’m so thrilled about that,” she said with a huff. Delta thought she may have been sarcastic but he was unsure. Sarcasm wasn’t something he had ever done well picking up on.

“I am simply Delta. Or what is left of him,” Delta continued instead.

“So the stories Caboose told of you were true,” she said after a moment. Delta nodded. “Epsilon thought your escape was something Caboose imagined. Just something he made up to make himself feel better while he was alone in Blue Base.”

“That was not the case.”

“So I see,” Tex stated, glancing him over for a moment, gaze seeming to get caught on his glitchy stumps. “You should get someone to look at that for you. Can’t feel very good.”

“I am…coping with it,” Delta said simply. “But my presence here is to simply explain that the soldiers you were fighting are not your enemy. They will not try to harm you or forcibly stop you from leaving this facility. You are safe.”

“You say ‘try’ because you know they wouldn’t be able to hurt me if they wanted to,” She said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Correct.”

“Fine, I won’t hurt your little friends. Anymore.”

“Thank you. That is much appreciated.” Delta paused, noticing that the discomfort of his stretched code was starting to increase. “I must go. I doubt I would be able to stay much longer if I wanted.”

“You’re with Caboose, right?” Tex called before he could start to leave. “You’re stuck in his implant.”

“That is correct.”

“Then you can keep an eye on him. The kid needs someone in his corner for a change.”

Delta paused, coming to the sudden realization that she knew more about his host then he originally thought.

“I will do my best," was all Delta said in response. “I really must be going.”

Delta let himself get dragged back through the cable and into Caboose’s implant. Right where he belonged. He checked, double checked, triple checked, that all his code made the trip back before alerting Caboose that he could now remove the cord.

“That was quick,” Caboose said as he unlatched it from his head. “How’s Church?”

[He is perfectly fine,] Delta reassured simply. [He should be coming out soon.]

“That’s good!” Caboose exclaimed. “I can’t wait to give him a hug!”

Delta let Caboose rush away, opting to take a peek at the files he had copied. He wasn’t able to get all of them, but he got enough. Major personnel files, a few select mission reports, and most, if not all, of the Director’s personal logs.

He couldn’t wait to go through them. To finally have a personal project of his very own.

He was…there was a word for this feeling. He knew that. Like he was flying, ecstatic, full of too much energy. Delta may have difficulty identifying his own emotions, but he knew this one. Caboose had shown it to him before. In fact, Caboose was feeling it right now.

Delta was excited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Am adjusting some of the tags. Mostly because it's becoming a little less purely Delta-centric and and little more Caboose AND Delta-centric ( even though Delta's doing most of the storytelling.) That is all.
> 
> also, if i don't post again the rest of the week, it's because im added a new part between chapters (which would have to be posted next) and it's kicking my butt...or i'm focusing on editing


	8. I can do it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a trip to sidewinder

The epsilon unit sparked at their feet, making noises Delta knew were not normal. It was failing and Epsilon wanted to go _inside_ it.

“It only goes one way,” Agent Washington said, sounding exhausted already. “If you go in, you’re not coming back out.”

“Then fix it,” Epsilon demanded. “I’m not leaving Tex in there.”

“I can’t do that without tools and at least one extra power source,” Washington tried to convince. “It was low on power even before the Meta started using it. Even if we had those things, it wouldn’t be a guarantee that-”

“I can do it,” Caboose pipped up, even going so far as to raise his hand.

There was silence for a moment before Wash sighed.

“Simmons and Grif, go look for anything that can be used as a power source. Tucker and Caboose, I need tools,” Wash ordered, already crouching down to work on the device. The three ran off to the base to do their tasks, Caboose didn’t move.

“I can do it,” he offered again. He pulled out his screwdriver from his suit pocket and crouched down next to Washington. Epsilon yanked him away before he could even touch it.

“Tex is in there, you idiot!” Church yelled. “I can’t have you fucking it up.”

“I’ve got my screwdriver. I can fix anything.”

“You need more than that stupid screwdriver to fix this you fucking moron,” Epsilon hissed. “Like other tools and batteries and shit.”

“It’s attached to a suit, Church. I don’t need batteries if it’s attached to a suit that already has batteries,” Caboose said with certainty as Church and Wash just stared. “I can fix it. Wash broke it, I’m fixing it. It’s my job.”

Delta caught a few memories flash by of him doing missions under similar situations such as this that must have come loose. He doubted they would stay around long enough to cause nightmares again but he would keep an eye on him regardless.

“Since when is it you-“

“Let him try,” Washington interrupted. Epsilon’s head snapped towards him; he would be gawking if he had the ability to do so. “Look, I barely knew what I was doing when I converted it. I know the basics of converting it back but I have never actually tried it. If Caboose says he can do it, I say let him try.”

“You’re seriously wanting to let this moron try to fix a failing machine? He’s probably making it fail faster just being in proximity of it.”

“He’s transferred you several times without fail and, assumingly, Tex as well. He must know something about AI interfaces to do so successfully,” Wash argued.

“But-“

“You’re wasting time.”

“Fucking fine! Try it,” Epsilon exclaimed, letting him go with a dramatic flourish. “See if I care. It’s only my fucking _girlfriend_ in there.”

“I’ll get her out soon!” Caboose said, inching back into place. He hesitated a moment before opening the side panel.

[I…can do this, right?] Caboose questioned silently.

[Yes, you can,] Delta answered certainly. [And I’ll help you.]

Caboose nodded and immediately got to work. He swiftly removed the panel, tutting in disapproval when he caught sight of the tangled mess of wires Wash had left behind. Delta helped him make sense of the chaos as well as keeping his focus. He purposefully tuned out Wash and Epsilon’s conversation so not to distract him. He could be very distractable and they really couldn’t afford that right now.

His fingers were sure as he picked apart the wires and started putting them together properly, diverting a few connected to the unit’s power cell into the suit’s connecting piece so it could draw the power it needed to keep functioning. Whenever Caboose was unsure of something, Delta stepped in, immediately helping to point out what was needed. In no time the one-way door was made back into a two-way door, yet Tex wasn’t using it.

“She’s not coming out,” Caboose muttered, his hands hovering near the storage unit.

[She can’t jump,] Delta realized with a start. [Someone will have to go in after her.]

Caboose never had the chance to relay the message as the suit started climbing to its feet, apparently not as lifeless as they originally believed. He threw his arms up, blocking a blow that would have connected with his head, only to get thrown back several feet in the process.

Chaos erupted around them as the Meta retrieved his weapon and started fighting once again. Delta and Caboose could only watch as Church and Wash tried to fight back against the Meta. But they weren’t winning. How could they when the Meta now had access to all his armor enhancements instead of just the active camo? Caboose had strengthened the unit’s connection to the suit so it could draw more power, but that connection was a two-way street.

[Church is going to die again,] Caboose thought as an explosion threw the blue robotic body away into the snow. [It’s my fault.]

[We had no way of knowing the Meta would regain consciousness so quickly,] Delta said, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

[I have to do something.] Caboose was determined, but also scared. [I can’t let him die again. Can I…help fight? Will…will that help?]

[The Meta is still outfitted with speed and strength augments, as well as active camo and bubble shield,] Delta explained. [Taking into account that Agent Maine was consistently higher on the leaderboard than yourself by at least seven spots without such augments, there will not be much you can do to assist against the Meta. I believe your best option would be to stand guard over Epsilon as a last line of defense.]

[But Wash needs help,] Caboose pointed out, watching the fight as he climbed to his feet.

Right on cue, Tucker and the Reds ran out of the base, armed to the teeth and heading straight towards the active fight.

[He has help,] Delta said, pointing Caboose’s attention towards the running figures. [They have been…surprisingly effective against Freelancer agents in the past. I have little doubt they will be just the help Agent Washington needs.]

[I can be surprisingly effective too,] Caboose said.

[If the Meta goes for Epsilon, then that effectiveness will be greatly appreciated. We cannot leave him unguarded.]

[Ok, I’ll guard Church,] Caboose relented, finally heading over to the damaged robot struggling to get out of the snow.

-

The following fight was intense but ended relatively quickly with a strange maneuver that involved attaching the Meta to a car and throwing them both over the cliff. Delta hadn’t thought it would work, especially after Sarge felt the need to bring the Meta’s attention to it, but somehow it did. They had even gotten the epsilon unit back so it all worked out.

Delta half expected to see the Meta clawing his way back up the cliff but the only person to do that so far had been Grif. Which only seemed to support Caboose’s claim that the orange soldier couldn’t die, as impossible as it sounded.

But the unit was failing again without its makeshift power source. It was going to shut down soon, Delta could tell. There was nothing Caboose could do for it now that a lot of the connecting wires had been ripped out when it was retrieved.

Yet Epsilon _still_ wanted to enter it.

“You’re going to have to use it on me, Doc,” Epsilon said as Caboose stared at the unit.

Doc started saying something about doing no harm, but Delta tuned him out. He didn’t want Epsilon to go in there. He _really_ didn’t. The unit was failing. If Epsilon went in there now, he probably wouldn’t come back out.

Delta had a feeling about that. It was the same as when he first went to interact with the files, or when he hesitated to use the cord. It was the one that he really didn’t like but still didn’t know the name of.

“Caboose, you do it then,” Epsilon said, snapping Delta’s attention back into the present. The feeling spiked, becoming sharper, more intense. More…desperate.

[No! Don’t let Epsilon go in there,] Delta said quickly, making Caboose jump at the intensity.

“I can’t,” Caboose said quietly. Delta wasn’t exactly sure who he was talking to.

“You do it all the time,” Epsilon said flatly.

“I don’t want to,” Caboose said, finally looking away from the sparking unit. “We’re scared.”

_Scared._

Was that what Delta was feeling? Scared?

Epsilon was going to risk his life going into a failing unit. One he might not come out of. He could die. Stop existing. Leave Delta as the last living AI. The last fragment still operational.

Delta didn’t want him to die.

Delta didn’t want to be the last AI.

Delta didn’t want to be alone.

Epsilon stared at Caboose for a long moment before nodding.

“That’s alright, Caboose. I think I can do it on my own,” Epsilon said.

“What if you get stuck? Then we’ll be alone again. He doesn’t want to be alone, Church,” Caboose said, doing a good job of putting Delta’s fears (because that’s what they were) into words.

“I don’t think you can ever be alone,” Epsilon said almost amused. “But hey, if I don’t come back…you remember that thing Delta said a long time ago?”

“Memory is the key,” Caboose answered immediately.

“Yeah, so, if I don’t come back this time, it’s your job to remember me. Both of your jobs.” Epsilon didn’t look away from Caboose as he said it. It took Delta a long moment to realize why.

He knew.

He knew Delta was in there with Caboose. Tex had said he didn’t believe it but, something must have changed. Maybe Tex told him on the way to Sidewinder or he just came to the realization while Caboose was talking. Some way, somehow, Epsilon figured out that Caboose had been telling the truth. That Delta was there.

Delta wasn’t sure if it made this situation better or infinitely worse. Delta was leaning towards the latter.

“Bye buddy. Bye…D.” Epsilon immediately dropped his body and entered the unit before Delta could think to say anything.

The Reds came over to see what was going on so Caboose explained, but Delta didn’t pay attention. His focus solely on the unit sparking in front of them, waiting for even a hint of Epsilon’s return before it failed.

He watched Simmons try to stabilize it, but Caboose and him both knew it wouldn’t work. It was going to fail.

“Come on, Church! Run towards my voice! You can make it!” Caboose shouted to the unit. “You can’t leave. He’s going to be sad if you leave! Come back!”

The lights on the unit faded out as Caboose was shouting.

Epsilon hadn’t come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did not think i would finish this on time but here it is. I have one more chapter in backlog (it used to be 3 but im rewriting the last two) meaning the update rate might drop to once a week instead of three. just so u know.


	9. Washington Interlude: Everything is so Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington is confused.

-AGENT WASHINGTON INTERLUDE-

Wash hurried through the abandoned warehouse they were currently staying at, leading Caboose around by the elbow. He was trying not to panic. Panicking would only make Caboose panic and that was something he really didn’t need right now. 

“Tucker!” he called, getting no immediate answer. 

It had been about a month since they left Sidewinder they were _still_ trying to get back to Valhalla. The entire trip had been just one delay after another. First it was the utter destruction of the Hornets only an hour in, and, of course, the week spent trying to repair the unrepairable. After the Reds grudgingly relenting to proceed on foot, everyone ended up dragging their feet and getting so impressively lost that Wash wasn’t even sure they were on the right planet anymore.

It was frustrating, but somehow not exactly stressful. Almost like a vacation, though if he admitted that to anyone here, they’d think him even more of a workaholic then he actually was.

But that wasn’t what he was worried about right now.

“Tucker!” he called again, finally getting an exasperated groan as a response.

“Shout a little louder, why don’t you?” Tucker called back from the main room they were camped in. Tucker and Simmons were arguing about something while sitting on some crates while Grif looked to be out cold on the floor, judging by the snoring. “I don’t think the building’s owners heard you. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to find an entire platoon of armored soldiers hiding out in their shitty warehouse.”

“I think there’s something wrong with Caboose,” Wash said, moving quickly towards the group. Tucker shook his head.

“Tell us something we don’t know,” Tucker said, sounding as if he were rolling his eyes under his helmet. “There’s always something wrong with Caboose.”

“No, I mean, something new.”

“What, did he say something about a voice in his head telling him to kill us all? Because that’s not new,” Tucker said with a nonchalant shrug Wash didn’t think belonged with those words. “It’s probably just the memory of Omega fucking with him again. Happens sometimes.”

“No, he can’t see,” Wash stated. Tucker and Simmons froze, sharing a look that Wash hoped to be a concerned one. Knowing them, it wasn’t. “I checked his suit and there’s nothing wrong with it. I’m concerned it might be him.”

“Hey Caboose,” Tucker stated, getting the blue soldier’s attention.

“Hello invisible Tucker!” Caboose said happily, completely ignoring the nervous tone in the room.

“What color do you see?”

“I just told you he-”

“Yellow!”

There was silence for a good, long moment before Tucker swore as Simmons scrambled to wake Grif up.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Tucker snapped.

“Patrol.” Simmons somehow shoved a grumbling Grif to his feet and started dragging him towards the exit. “Have to be prepared. You never know what’s out there.”

“Sarge is already on patrol,” Wash pointed out in confusion.

“He...um...needs help.”

“Bullshit he does! You just want to avoid dealing with this!” Tucker accused.

“We dealt with it last time!” Simmons exclaimed, his voice going up an octave in defense. “There’s a Grif shaped crater in Red Base to prove it. And I still haven’t been able to get the dent out of my robot arm. So yeah, your turn. Suck it, Blue.”

“You better have a good reason to be waking me up,” Grif grumbled as Simmons tried to hurry them by the door. “This is a crime, Simmons. Completely illegal. I should have you court-martialed.”

“Would you rather give Caboose a haircut?” Simmons furiously whispered. The change was immediate.

“What are you waiting for, Simmons? Someone has to keep Sarge’s devastation to a minimum. It’s our duty to the ecosystem.”

The duo was gone before Wash could even process what he heard.

“Fucking cowards!” Tucker called after them.

“Wait, haircut?” Wash questioned.

“I’m getting a haircut?” Caboose exclaimed. Tucker ignored him. “I hope you cut more than one.”

“When Caboose’s hair gets too long, it covers his eyes when he puts his helmet back on,” Tucker explained with a sigh. He searched through his armor pockets for something as he spoke. “Then, he thinks he’s blind so yeah, haircut.”

“And...Caboose doesn’t like haircuts?”

“Nah, he loves them.”

“Haircuts fix my eyes!” Caboose interjected, his helmet already in his hands. Tucker was right, his curly blond hair almost reached the tip of his nose despite sticking up everywhere else. One side looked significantly shorter than the other by a few inches, like whoever cut his hair last had stopped halfway through.

“The problem comes from…” Tucker glanced over at Caboose wearily. “Caboose, cover your ears.”

“Ok! Are you having a super-secret agent meeting with Church? Can I join?”

“No, you can’t. Cover your ears.”

“Can I join the next one?” Caboose asked. Tucker shot him another look and Caboose immediately covered his ears and started to hum ‘Ants Go Marching One By One.’

“He’s fine with the actual ‘cutting hair’ part. But if the scissors so much as graze his neural implant, he reflexively throws you through a nearby wall,” Tucker explained in little more than a whisper. He frowned when his pockets came up empty. “And that thing’s not exactly tiny. It’s effectively the worst game of ‘Operation’ invented. Even compared to the new alien version they released three years ago that deducts a hundred dollars from your bank account every time you mess up to ‘add to the authenticity.’”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Yeah, and it’s absolutely disgusting. Like, dude, someone should have told Hasbro that no one wanted to effectively dissect an anatomically correct Grunt.” Tucker made a disgusted sound, shuttering. “And you do not want to know the shit that thing started with the Sangheili. It was a nightmare.”

“No, I mean does Caboose really react that violently?”

“The only person that can cut his hair without getting thrown a minimum of ten feet is Donut.”

“Donut?”

“The pink one.”

“Oh. Right. The guy I shot,” Wash said, guilt tugging at him briefly.

“Exactly. So yeah, thanks for being solely responsible for making me relive this hell. I’m so thrilled. I always wanted to go flying across another warehouse.”

“Then why’d you crash the plane?” Caboose pipped up. 

“That wasn’t my fault. Who the hell sets the stupid joystick to inverted?!” Tucker said, before realizing something. “And I told you to cover your ears.”

“Oh, I thought that part was over.”

“If I didn’t say you could uncover them then it’s not fucking over!” Tucker slammed one of his pockets closed with a huff. “Damn it, I thought I had a pair.”

“I’ve got scissors!” Caboose reached into his pocket and pulled out something blue to hand to Tucker. He didn’t take it.

“Those are safety scissors, Caboose. I’m not using those on your hair.”

“Grif and Simmons did.”

“No wonder it looks like shit.”

“Here, just use mine,” Washington said, pulling out a small pair of scissors from his own pocket. “I’d rather this not take all day.”

“Ugggg,” Tucker groaned, grabbing the scissors regardless. “Fuck me.”

“No thanks, I believe we’re a little busy for that right now,” Wash said, making Tucker stare at him for several long seconds.

“Funny. Where’d you learn that?” Tucker said dryly, sitting Caboose down on a smaller crate so he had access to his hair. “Because I know you didn’t come up with that on your own.”

“You don’t know that,” Wash said. Tucker stared at him flatly through his visor. Wash relented almost immediately. “York. I can’t tell you how many times he got his ass beat for using that joke.”

“Sounds like a fun guy.”

“He was. He got killed a while back. God, it’s almost been a year now,” Wash mused, sitting down on his own crate in front of Caboose. Tucker looked to be taking stock of Caboose’s hair, trying to figure out where to start.

“York….Yoooork…” Caboose said, sounding like he was trying to figure something out.

“As in New York. He was a Freelancer agent and a brilliant locksmith, though his skill rarely showed itself in the field. One of the top agents; always either second or third on the leaderboard,” Wash explained. “He got an eye injury during a training accident so he ended up being the first agent to receive an AI to compensate.”

“Oh! He had Delta! That explains everything!” Caboose exclaimed happily. “Delta doesn’t talk about him much but he was with York a long time. I think he misses him sometimes, like he misses Epsilon.”

Both Wash and Tucker stared at Caboose for a moment, trying to figure out what to say to that.

“You deal with it,” Tucker said flatly. “I’m doing hair.”

Washington sighed. This wasn’t a conversation he really wanted to have but, here he was, having.

“Caboose, Delta…he’s gone too. Just like Church,” Washington tried to explain while Tucker started cutting small chunks of hair seemingly at random.

“But you’re Church.”

“No, I’m…” Wash paused as Caboose tilted his head, a single stony blue eye peeking out from behind his bangs in confusion. Tucker tilted it back almost immediately with a quiet order to stay still. “The Church before me.”

“Oh, the one in the memory unit? But he might come back.”

“No, the one before Epsilon.”

“The ghost-but-not-a-ghost one?”

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh ok,” Caboose said. “What about that Church again? I think Tucker forgot what we were talking about.”

“For fuck’s sake, just admit _you_ forgot and be done with it,” Tucker complained, another chunk of blond falling to the ground. He almost shrieked when Caboose turned to look at him despite the scissors being near his head.

“You’re just mad because you forgot what we were talking about,” Caboose said, a sly smile all but telling them he was doing this on purpose. Tucker turned his head back straight.

“Stay still. I’m not going to end up through a wall because you can’t stop wiggling,” Tucker grumbled.

“Caboose,” Washington said, getting his attention. “That Church isn’t coming back.”

“Oh, I know that. That’s why we got Epsilon. And you. He doesn’t need to come back if we still have Churches,” Caboose answered.

“Just like that Church isn’t coming back, neither is Delta,” Washington tried to explain. “We tried to get him back, but he was too far gone before the EMP. And there wasn’t anything left of the AIs after. I’m sorry.”

“Delta’s not gone. He’s in my head. He just can’t talk outside right now,” Caboose said, sounding so matter of fact.

“That’s just your memory of him. Delta died. He’s gone.”

“No, he’s not.” Caboose frowned, his voice sounding like he was starting to get angry. “He’s not gone.”

“I’m sorry, but he is. He’s-“

“Hey, Wash?” Tucker interrupted, getting the ex-freelancer’s attention. “Maybe you should change the subject. It’s really not a good idea to make him upset when I have s-i-s-o-r-s near his n-e-c-k.”

“That’s not how you spell scissors,” Caboose said incredulously.

“I don’t care, Caboose. As long as Wash knows what I’m spelling and you- wait. Fuck.”

“Also, what’s the other spelled word? I don’t think Church knows it.”

“Fuck it! I’m done.” Tucker threw his hands in the air as he stepped away from Caboose. “This so isn’t worth it.”

Tucker dropped the scissors back into Washington’s lab as he walked away.

“Where are you going?” Wash called back.

“Patrol!” Tucker called back. “Making sure those losers on Red Team don’t get fucking lost. Again.”

Both Caboose and Wash watched Tucker disappear out the door in silence.

“I never knew patrols were so fun. Everyone wants to patrol!” Caboose said, breaking the silence easily. “I’ll go too!”

Wash could only watch as Caboose picked up his helmet, putting it on as he started towards the door. He stopped after a few steps.

“Oh no! I’m blind! Everything is so yellow!”

“Come on, Caboose. I’ll fix it,” Wash said with a sigh, leading the man back to the same crate he had been sitting on. He talked Caboose into taking his helmet back off and took up Tucker’s abandoned spot with his scissors, his gloves off to help maneuver them.

Wash blanked at the sight of Caboose’s implant. Tucker wasn’t exaggerating, which wasn’t a sentence he ever thought would cross his mind about anything. The implant’s main part was about the size of his palm, old and scratched with a little green light blinking inconsistently towards the right. If that wasn’t bad enough, he could just make out several cable-like extensions buried within his hair that seemed to attach to several different sections of the back of his head.

It was like no neural implant he had ever seen. Needless to say, he understood the sim troopers’ difficulties with keeping the scissors away from it.

“Caboose,” he questioned as he began carefully cutting some of the longer pieces in the back, making sure his fingers were always between the scissors and Caboose’s head. “How did you get an implant like this?”

“Just did,” Caboose said, pausing for a moment. “It was a long time ago and I don’t try to remember then because it hurts.”

“It’s not like everyone else’s.”

“I know. They all have shiny new ones.” Caboose wiggled in his seat, making Wash pause until he settled again. “Mine’s older.”

“So I see,” Wash said simply.

He continued to cut Caboose’s hair for several quiet moments, trying to get as close to the implant as he could without actually touching the scissors to it. It was quite a bit easier once he realized that a hand touching it was alright, just not the scissors. Maybe ‘alright’ wasn’t the best word. Caboose seemed to find anything touching his implant to be uncomfortable, which Wash found out when he accidentally brushed one of the cables causing them both to freeze in place. But he didn’t end up as part of the warehouse walls so it was ‘alright.’ He could work with that.

“I’m glad everyone has shiny new ones,” Caboose continued after several minutes.

“Why is that?” Wash asked, more to keep Caboose distracted than anything.

“Delta said that the new ones are safer. They can’t hurt them as much as mine does me.”

Washington’s hands slowed, his thoughts drifting to his own experience with the AI that lived in his implant so briefly.

“They can hurt enough,” he said.

“Not directly,” Caboose said, making Washington stop completely. “The new implants are specifically designed not to give the housed AI’s as much access to the host’s mind as mine does. They can’t dig deep into their subconscious and purposefully destroy their mind and memories until they’re broken.”

Caboose looked up at him, a genuine smile stretching across his face that didn’t fit with his surprisingly serious words.

“They’re safe.”

Wash stared at him for a long moment, startled to discover that Caboose reminded him of an old Freelancer buddy he would occasionally train or share meals with. He had no idea why Cal came to mind now, when he hadn’t even thought of him since Freelancer imploded. Maybe it was because Caboose kind of looked like him; same curly blond hair and a large smile that could brighten anyone’s mood.

And then there was what Caboose had said. He knew Caboose wasn’t quite right in the head and that Omega’s several attempts at possessing him didn’t exactly help. But Wash was under the impression he had always been like that to some degree. Was he not? Did Omega actually break his mind by using the extra access the implant gave him? If that was the case, what was he like before?

Wash was going to have to look into this, if only for his own sanity.

“Safe is good,” Wash eventually said once he realized Caboose was waiting for a response.

“Yeah, safe is good.” Caboose turned forward, humming to himself as Wash prepared to start cutting his hair again. He still had a lot to go and he’d rather not go flying across the room.

-

Despite the experience being more nerve wrecking than the entire skyscraper incident years back, Wash didn’t think he did that bad of a job. Sure, he had to dodge Caboose’s arm once when he had lost focus, but he didn’t _actually_ get thrown so it worked out. The only thing left was the blue soldier’s bangs.

Wash moved around front, to see his bangs still hung in front of his face, blocking his eyes. Wash shook his head, pulling his bangs up to reveal Caboose’s face as his eyes light up upon seeing Washington.

“Church! I can see you!” He said with a smile.

“And I can see you,” Wash said, smiling a little behind his helmet. It was hard not to with Caboose’s own being so infectious. “I didn’t know you had scars on your face.”

“They’re old,” Caboose said, a hand coming up to touch a few of them. “Sometimes I forget they’re there because I have to wear my helmet all the time and I forget that my helmet isn’t my face.”

“Sounds tough.” Wash started trimming some of the hair in his hands, trying to get it just as short as the hair on top of his head. “Do you remember how you got all of them?”

“No, but I know what made them,” Caboose said, sounding proud. “Want to know too?”

“Sure.”

“This one was a knife,” Caboose started, pointing at a small, diagonal scar through one of his eyebrows, before moving towards a slightly bigger one that zig-zagged straight off his nose. “This one was from a gun.”

“That doesn’t look like your normal bullet scar,” Wash pointed out. Caboose shook his head.

“No, not bullet. Just gun. This one was a bullet.” Caboose pointed towards the chip in his ear which had only become visible in the last ten minutes or so after being buried in his hair.

“What about the one on your lip?” Wash asked. Caboose touched the old, jagged scar that split the right side of both lips and stretched from the bottom of his nose through his chin.

“Oh, that was when I was two, I found my mom’s combat knife and thought it would make a really great chew toy, but it didn’t and it cut my face so my mom had to take me to the hospital and I got seven stitches and a blue popsicle.”

Wash blinked.

“Wow, that’s…not something you hear every day,” Wash said slowly. “You remember all that?”

“Sometimes. It doesn’t hurt as much to remember really, _really_ old stuff, but it doesn’t stay. Old, new stuff hurts more,” Caboose said, sounding as if it made sense to him. “Dad was funny that day. He kept running around the room saying ‘what do we do? What do we do?’ over and over until mom told him to ‘shut the fuck up.’ Then he stopped.”

“So your mom took you to the hospital because your dad was panicking,” Wash stated, somewhat amused by Caboose’s story. Honestly, as odd as it was, it was the most coherent story the blue soldier had told him yet. And Caboose told a lot of stories.

“And because dad had to stay home with Cammy. She was crying.”

“Is Cammy your sister?” Wash measured the bangs against the other hair. It wasn’t quite there yet.

“Yes.”

“You said before you have seventeen sisters. Is she one of them?”

“No.”

“But she’s still your sister?”

“Yes. But not one of my seventeen sisters. They’re different,” Caboose said with a nod that almost made Wash cut his finger instead of Caboose’s hair. “They’re my ‘Caboose’ sisters. Cammy is just my sister.”

“’Caboose sisters’?” Wash mused for a second. “Wait, Caboose, are you adopted?”

Caboose paused for a long moment, a frown deepening across his face the longer he thought.

“I…um…I don’t know. I don’t remember,” he finally admitted.

“That’s alright,” Wash said, patting the man’s armored shoulder. “Anyways, I think I’m done. It’s nothing like a profession could do but it should work.”

“Really? You’re done! I’m so excited!” Caboose’s grin bounced right back onto his face. “I want to see it!”

“I can take a picture through my suit and send it to you,” Wash offered. “I don’t exactly keep a mirror handy.”

“Yes! Please do that. Then Delta can see it too! Maybe it will cheer him up!” Caboose hopped in his seat, hardly able to contain himself. Wash still felt uncomfortable that Caboose didn’t understand that Delta was dead, but he didn’t think now was the time to bring that up again.

So Wash just took a picture, studying it for a moment before sending it to Caboose’s suit. He really did look a lot like Cal, more so now that his hair wasn’t hiding his face. Wash was pretty sure Cal even had a similar lip scar to Caboose’s, though he didn’t remember ever asking the other agent where he got it.

There was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind, like he was missing something important. Before he could question it too much, Caboose, now with his helmet back on, scooped him up in a rib bruising bearhug that lifted him straight off the ground.

“Thank you, Washing-Church!” Caboose exclaimed, the closest to getting Washington’s name right that he’s been all month. “I love my haircut! I can see again! And not just yellow. Delta says it looks nice too. He thinks you missed a spot but he’s just being picky.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m going to go show Tucker! He’s going to be sooo jealous!” Caboose said, taking off towards the door while forgetting one very important thing.

“Wait, Caboose! Put me down first!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact of the chapter: I've had this "Caboose needing haircuts" idea for years. It was originally part of a very self-indulgent "Noble Six ends up in freelancer" fic I never posted but I really like how it turned out in here.
> 
> FFotC 2: Tucker spells "scissors" how I would spell scissors if spell check wasn't a thing
> 
> (btw. if you have any questions or comments about anything, feel free to ask! I always try to answer within a couple days at the most)


	10. I'll be back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta is tired

Delta is tired. He shouldn’t be. He’s an AI; AI’s don’t need to shut down for several hours every day to rest. But logging off seemed to help with his recovering coding. It let his systems rest so they weren’t constantly running. ‘Sleeping’ made him feel better, for some strange reason. But Delta hadn’t been sleeping lately.

Normally, Delta would sleep when Caboose did, keeping only a few subroutines running to wake him if something was wrong. But Caboose started having nightmares again. They had almost gotten back to Valhalla (after two months and who knows how many detours) only for Agent Carolina to appear and drag them back out to go rescue Epsilon.

The nightmares had started almost immediately after that.

They were worse than when they were about Omega. He woke up sobbing instead of just tears, yelling something untranslatable instead of just gasping for breath. Delta had hoped they would go away on their own but it had been about a week since then and it only seemed to be getting worse. Delta didn’t feel comfortable sleeping himself when Caboose could need him at any time during the night.

So, Delta stayed awake, finding little things to do between Caboose’s nightmares to keep himself busy. He went through the files he stole, including some new ones they picked up while on Sidewinder. He kept watch even though Carolina and Wash were both doing the same. He was even starting to actively try and fix his code a small amount, which he hadn’t really had time to do as of yet.

He wasn’t aiming for a lot at the moment, just the ability to send localized text-based messages to nearby armor. Anything else would be beyond his abilities at the moment, particularly without any math skills to assist. But he needed the ability to communicate without using Caboose as a go between. He had a very extensive list of things he wanted to say to Epsilon once they rescued him, it didn’t seem fair to make Caboose say them all.

Delta was fairly sure he almost got it, which should be exciting, but he was tired. He wanted to sleep. But he could already feel Caboose’s discomfort as the nightmares started up again for the night.

Delta set aside his project, turning his attention towards Caboose as he started to whimper. Only able to pick out a few, blurry images from his dreams, Delta had no idea what those dreams could be about. Some of them looked vaguely familiar, but most were just too distorted for him to make out anything. He tried to sending calming words to Caboose, reminding him he was there, but that usually didn’t help.

He had been trying to avoid going deeper into Caboose’s implant right now. In his exhausted state, he was more likely to mess something up. But with the way things were looking, he didn’t really have much of a choice. He would just have to be exceedingly careful.

[I’ll be back,] he said quietly as he slipped deeper into the implant.

He expected to appear in Caboose’s ‘stone room’, as he liked to call it, and have a look around before finding what was wrong. Maybe see what memories were toying with his mind at night before patching the hole they made. Just like last time.

He didn’t expect to immediate get accosted by memories before he had ever reached it.

_“What are you even doing here? This is a military organization,”_ Agent Carolina demanded, she had her helmet off, along with California. Delta wasn’t sure if she was furious or in shock.

_“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”_ Cal rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. _“It…was an accident.”_

_“How the hell do you end up joining the military_ on accident?” Carolina questioned.

_“Ok, so I was at my school, right? And…um these recruiters set up shop in the hallways, like recruiters always do,”_ Cal explained, shuffling around a bit. _“They weren’t like the normal type we get at MIT so I took a look. I saw that it was being led by Dr. Lenard Church and I may have just signed up without reading the rest. Next thing I know I’m in basics for ten weeks and then shipped off to the_ MOI _.”_

_“Please tell me you didn’t drop out of MIT for this,”_ she said, running a hand through her hair in exasperation.

_“No way. I graduated first. That was kind of a stipulation anyways,_ ” Cal reassured, waving his hands dramatically. _“I’m here as a combat engineer. I kind of needed my degree if I wanted the job.”_

_“That’s good at least,”_ Carolina said under her breath. _“Just, be careful. The missions here can be hard, especially when you’re just starting out. Watch your back.”_

_“Why would I need to if I have you?”_ Cal asked with a smirk. Carolina rolled her eyes at him but Delta could see her trying to stiffen a small smile on her face. Cal must have picked up on it too since it only made him happier.

_“Nerd,”_ she said, nothing but a teasing familiarity in her tone.

Delta was just trying to figure out how this was part of a nightmare when the scene bleed away into a new one.

California was walking into Med bay, nervous but somehow still confident even as Carolina roughly yanked him out of the doorway and back into the hall.

_“What the fuck are you thinking?”_ Carolina hissed at him. _“You can’t possibly go through with this.”_

_“The Director needed a volunteer to test the new implant. I volunteered. I’m not going back on that,”_ Cal said.

_“It’s brain surgery, Mike. You’re letting these scientist experiment with your_ brain! _What if it goes wrong? Where will you be then?”_ Carolina tried to convince him. Cal was not swayed.

_“You said yourself, the Director only cares about his AI experiments. He doesn’t have time to be concerned with us,”_ Cal said. _“I just thought that maybe if showed interest in them…”_

_“Having scientists scramble your brain isn’t going to make him suddenly remember you exist,”_ Carolina snapped.

_“I know!”_ Cal snapped back. _“I know. But at least I’m trying.”_

_“This is not trying. This is being desperate.”_

_“You’re no better Miss. Top-of-the-leaderboard.”_

_“You know what? Fine!”_ Carolina threw her hands in the air, letting go of Cal’s arm in the process. _“Go. Get your brain fried like a fucking egg! See if I care!”_

The scene swirled away to Cal’s feelings of disappointment at watching her leave.

_“Just rest. Please,”_ Cal all but begged as Carolina ran programs in the training room. He was being ignored. _“You’re exhausted. You need sleep.”_

_“Sleep is for the weak,”_ Carolina stated coldly, restarting the dot program again.

_“You’re going to be weak if you don’t get some soon,”_ Cal stated. Delta could feel his worry for her as he watched her repeat the drill. He was blatantly ignoring the headache building in his skull in favor of trying to get the aqua soldier to rest for two seconds.

_“I’m fine.”_

_“You’re not,”_ Cal shot back. _“Go to bed.”_

_“Fuck off.”_

_“I’m going to stay right here until you agree to go to bed. Then probably follow you to make sure you really do,”_ Cal said. She ignored him. _“Or I can just drag you there myself.”_

_“I don’t need your help!”_ She snapped, as she finished her round and turned towards Cal. It was obvious to Delta that she was furious even with her helmet on. _“I don’t need you telling me to go to bed. I don’t need you dragging me to dinner. I don’t need you policing every decision I make. I. Don’t. Need. You.”_

Cal stood there in shock as she turned back towards the program, restarting it again. He was shocked and hurt. He felt like he was losing her to this obsession of being the best and there was nothing he could do about it.

_“You’re just like him,”_ Cal said quietly, making her stutter in her training sequence.

The scene faded away to a crashed MOI, California struggling through the halls. Sirens blared as warning lights flashed obnoxiously. Cal was doing his best to ignore them but it was hard.

Delta could feel a sharp pain in Cal’s head as something warm dripped down the side of his face. The hallways wavered and tilted even after the ship had come to a stop, Cal’s vision swimming. But he couldn’t stop. He needed to get to the bridge for some reason. It was important to him. Tex and Carolina were at the bridge. He needed to know they were alright. He needed to know if _Carolina_ was alright.

The glass at the front of the room was shattered, letting in the cold air of whatever snowy planet they had landed on.

Just outside Delta could see several figures moving in the snow. Through Cal’s blurry gaze it looked like dancing.

Until he heard Carolina scream.

_“Carolina?!”_ He yelled back, his eyes focusing just in time to see Maine throw her off a nearby cliff. Another scream filled the air. Delta knew it was Cal’s before he did.

He scrambled out of the bridge and into the snow, eyes locked on the cliff Carolina just got dropped off of. Tex tried to stop him but he pushed her away to continue running forward.

Cal dropped to his knees at the edge, peering over as he desperately tried to get a glimpse of the aqua armor that had so recently disappeared over it.

A mournful howl snapped Delta back into the present. Caboose was awake, or at least waking up.

[It’s alright, it’s alright,] Delta started saying even as he was shaking off the images himself. He wasn’t sure if Caboose saw them exactly as he did, or if they got mixed up into something worse. Though he was fairly certain it was the latter. [It was just a nightmare. You’re alright.]

“Fucking hell, not again,” Tucker muttered from somewhere off to their left.

Delta ignored him, trying to get Caboose to calm down. He wasn’t even sure if Caboose could hear him since he didn’t respond. He was still thrashing and yelling like he was trying to physically fight off the dreams plaguing him.

“Caboose. Caboose!” Washington called to him, trying to get his attention, his face coming into the camera’s view as Delta glanced through it.

He didn’t have his helmet on, which was a bit of a surprise. Washington wasn’t one to take it off even during the Project but there he was, his pale blond hair sticking up haphazardly, premature grey streaks blending in well. His worried face pale, the lack of sun doing nothing for him other than highlighting his freckles and dark circles. His bright amber eyes showing nothing but concern for Caboose.

“Wake up, buddy. You’re having a nightmare,” Wash said, gently shaking his shoulder.

Caboose woke the rest of the way with a start, barely missing knocking heads with Wash as he snapped to a sitting position. A multitude of emotions poured through Caboose’s mind; Delta unable to identify all of them as they mixed. Caboose’s breathing hitched as his shaky hands tried to remove his helmet without much luck. Wash took pity on him after a moment and helped.

The video feed cut off, but Delta could still see well enough through Caboose to know what was happening outside.

“It was just a nightmare. Whatever it was, wasn’t real. You’re alright,” Wash said gently, putting the blue helmet down next to him as Caboose wiped his eyes roughly. New tears welled up again, replacing those that Caboose had just wiped away. Wash stayed there, talking to him until Caboose’s breathing had come back under control and the tears had slowed.

“Do you…want to talk about it?” Wash asked, a little unsure.

Caboose shook his head.

“Ok, do you…want a hug?”

Caboose hesitated a moment before nodding.

“In that case, I think I can spare one,” Wash said with a small smile. He had barely finished talking before he ended up with an arm full of Caboose.

He was still shaky, but Delta could feel his emotions starting to calm as Wash patted his back as comfortingly as possible, making sure Caboose could feel it through his armor. Delta was thankful for Wash’s assistance. There wasn’t much Delta could do in regards to physical comforts so Wash stepping in was a big help.

“I’ll go finish watch,” Carolina’s voice said from across the room. Caboose took notice, peaking over Wash’s shoulder to watch her leave the area. Panic started to bubble back up as images of snowy cliffs and aqua blue stuttered through his mind.

[She will be back,] Delta promised. Caboose calmed again, dropping his head back to Wash’s armored shoulder. What little remained of his dream slowly blead away to obscurity once again. Leaving Delta the only one to know what they were about, but still not knowing their significance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will be updating on Wednesdays now for the foreseeable future!


	11. You need Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just trying to get Caboose to go to sleep

Delta had questions. Lots of questions. He felt like he always did at this point in time. Right now, though, his main question was why Carolina showed up so vividly in Caboose’s memories. From what he had seen in those small memory clips, Caboose had been very attached to Carolina. And, what was even stranger, Carolina had shown evidence of the same. They had both cared about each other past that of simply teammates.

But why? If he remembered correctly, they rarely went on missions together. They didn’t have the same circle of friends. In everything Delta could find, they should have barely known each other. But Caboose’s memories said otherwise.

Delta was fairly certain he knew where he could find the answer to these inquiries but, he wasn’t quite ready to look there yet. He had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t going to like what he saw so he ended up putting it off.

There was always something more important to do anyways, like convincing Caboose to go to sleep.

“I’m not tired,” Caboose stated, exasperating both Wash and Delta. Washington sighed, running a hand through his hair. They had taken shelter in an abandoned military base which was apparently safe enough for the entirety of the Reds and Blues to decide they didn’t need their helmets on to sleep tonight. Washington wasn’t usually one to follow suit but Caboose had asked him if he had a face under his helmet and he couldn’t just tell him no.

“Yes, you are. You have to sleep,” Washington said quietly, trying not to wake the rest of the team. Everyone else was asleep except for Wash, Caboose, and Carolina who was out on watch. “You have to sleep when you’re tired.”

“You don’t sleep when you’re tired,” Caboose replied. Delta couldn’t exactly say he was wrong. Between calming down Caboose after nightmares and his own apparent insomnia, Wash had slept less than Caboose had throughout this entire trip

“Then I’ll sleep if you sleep. Deal?” Wash tried to bargain.

“I don’t want to sleep.”

Wash sighed. He really was getting nowhere.

[He is right, you need to go to sleep,] Delta said, trying to assist Washington in getting Caboose to sleep.

“If I sleep, the nightmares will come back,” Caboose explained. “I’m not going to sleep.”

“I know, trust me. I know better than you think,” Washington said, the meaning not lost on Delta. “But not sleeping will not make the nightmares go away. It will only make you that much more tired.”

[He knows what he’s talking about, Caboose,] Delta tried again. [You need sleep.]

“But the nightmares will come back if I sleep,” Caboose continued, only leading them in circles once again. Delta watched curiously as Wash frowned, contemplating something. After a long pause he spoke again.

“What…does Delta think of you not sleeping?” he tired, surprising the AI. Caboose stayed silent, confusion swirling through his mind.

[He doesn’t know I’m here,] Delta explained. [You have tried to tell him but he doesn’t believe you.]

“You don’t think he’s in my head,” Caboose said suspicious. Delta could tell he wasn’t sure why he should be suspicious of Wash, only acting so because Delta was. Delta would explain better later.

“I…well, no, I don’t,” Washington tripped over his words, obviously not expecting Caboose to pick up on that. “But you do. And, honestly, I’m getting desperate. I’d rather get you to sleep then try and have this conversation again.”

“Oh, you mean the conversation where you tell me Delta is dead and it’s just my own memory of him, then I tell you no, he’s really there and he’s just hurt and can’t talk out loud right now. That one, right?”

“…yes, that one.”

“We’ve had that one a lot.”

“About a dozen times now,” Washington said, shoulder’s slumping in exhaustion, and probably defeat.

“He’s really in my head,” Caboose said, making Wash sigh yet again.

“And here’s number thirteen,” he muttered to himself before speaking louder. “No, he’s really not. You just think he should be.”

“Nuh, uh,” Caboose said, shaking his head. He was teasing Wash, Delta could tell. Normally, he’d have a whole retort on why Delta was still in his implant, including a slightly warped version of how it happened. Tonight, he was just telling him he was wrong and leaving it at that.

“How about this?” Wash said after a long pause. “If Delta is really in your head, he would know things about me that you don’t. Can we agree on that?”

“Yes, Delta knows lots of things I don’t!” Caboose said proudly.

“Alright,” Wash said slowly. “So why don’t you have Delta tell you something I would know, but you wouldn’t so you can repeat it back to me. That should prove his existence one way or another, right?”

[He has a point. I am surprised he hadn’t come up with this earlier,] Delta said, amusement coloring his words. He already knew exactly what to use and was certain it would work.

“Ok, I can do that,” Caboose said, a smile stretching across his face.

Caboose listened carefully as Delta told Caboose exactly what to say.

“Delta says that while in Project Freelancer he once convinced you that your helmet made eating more efficient so you wouldn’t take your helmet off in the mess hall. He was lying but even after you found out you still ate with it on for over a month because you thought it was a really cool feature even though it wasn’t more efficient,” Caboose repeated as Wash stared slack jawed. Delta was a little surprised at how accurate Caboose was considering how inaccurate he usually was when repeating regular conversations. “Also that you were the one that introduced Theta to skateboards when North wasn’t looking. Delta saw you almost end up in your locker when you showed him how it worked.”

“Holy crap, you really have Delta in your head,” Washington said after a long moment.

“He keeps track of what I need to know,” Caboose said happily. “Like memories and how to do stuff I knew how to do a long time ago but don’t always know anymore.”

“But how?”

“He tells me in my head. I listen with my brain ears.”

“How did he escape the Meta? He took his chip. I saw his hologram around Maine’s head,” Wash stated, sounding bewildered. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“He left his chip. He stayed,” Caboose tried to explain, but that only confused Wash even more.

“But he couldn’t have ‘just stayed.’ He didn’t have the ability to jump completely out of his chip.”

[Repeat what I say,] Delta told Caboose before he could continue to explain. It would be faster this way, and less confusing for Washington. Again, Caboose repeated what Delta told him to near perfection. Maybe it was because the words were coming straight from his mind to his mouth like his own thoughts, not from his ears to his mind to his mouth, where things could get lost in translation.

By the time Caboose was done parroting the explanation, Washington had his head down with both hands in his hair just trying to wrap his mind around it.

“This…this shouldn’t be possible. I mean, it makes sense. Somehow? Definitely explains your lack of team kills lately,” Wash said half to himself.

“He tells me when to shoot! It’s not very often,” Caboose said back.

“Alright, Ok. Um…let’s get back to the main issue here,” Wash said, straightening up in his seat once again. “Now that we both know he’s actually there, what _does_ Delta think about you not sleeping?”

[That you should go to sleep,] Delta reminded before Caboose could say otherwise.

“He doesn’t like it,” Caboose said hesitantly. “He says I should listen to you and go to sleep. But he hasn’t been sleeping either so I don’t think I really need to listen to him.”

“AI’s don’t sleep, Caboose,” Wash tried to explain.

“Delta sleeps. He’s been really, really tired because he’s stayed awake since I started having nightmares,” Caboose explained, surprising Delta a little. He didn’t know Caboose had been aware of that. “Last time I had nightmares, he was able to get rid of them by moving things around in the stone room but I’m not sure if he can do that right now.”

“I…have no idea what you mean by any of that,” Wash admitted after a long pause. “Delta got rid of your nightmares before?”

“Yes.”

“But he hasn’t this time.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

[I have attempted it once already but ended up getting pulled into said nightmares. I am reluctant to try again at the moment for fear of making things worse in my exhausted state,] Delta explained, Caboose repeating his words to Washington.

Wash closed his eyes to take a calming breath that sounded like he was two seconds away from losing it over something.

“So let me get this straight,” Wash said in a voice that Delta thought sounded a little too calm. “Delta hasn’t been sleeping because Caboose has been having nightmares. Delta has a way of getting _rid_ of those nightmares but is too tired to do so properly. Which means Caboose continues to have nightmares, Delta continue to not sleep, and subsequently, continues to be unable to get rid of his nightmares. Am I getting this right?”

“Maybe?”

[Yes.]

“Delta said yes.”

“Delta, I’m sorry to say this, but you’ve been spending too much time with the Reds and Blues. They’ve worn off on you,” Wash said very matter-of-factly. “ _Both_ of you, go the fuck to sleep then take care of the nightmares in the morning. Sound like a plan?”

“But the nightmares will still be here if I sleep now. I don’t want to have nightmares,” Caboose pouted. Delta felt like pouting as well if only because not only was he being called irrational by Agent I-once-saved-a-cat-instead-of-completing-mission-objectives Washington, but the plan he had suggested was actually sound. It would work, if he could get Wash to keep an eye on Caboose for the night that was. Luckily, Delta had just the idea on how to do so.

[You know Caboose, you slept fairly well the other night when Wash gave you a hug and you fell asleep on his shoulder,] Delta suggested, feeling Caboose perk up at the idea. [Maybe if you mention that, he will allow you to use him as a pillow once again.]

“You really think so?” Caboose whispered, shooting a glance at Washington. The Ex-Freelancer narrowed his eyes.

“What is he telling you now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Agent Washerman,” Caboose said very slowly in a tone he only used when he was lying. Wash, of course, was not convinced.

“I’m sure,” Wash said dryly.

“Can I use you as a pillow again?” Caboose asked, surprising Washington yet again.

“What? I mean…why?”

“You’re comfy.”

“I’m in armor.”

“And I slept better when you were my pillow. Delta said so,” Caboose said, ignoring his complaint. “Please?”

“I’m not…I mean, I don’t think…” Wash stuttered to a stop as he no doubt caught sight of Caboose’s puppy dog eyes. Delta might not be able to see Caboose’s face, but he knew this was one thing he was exceptionally good at. So much so that he was fairly certain the Reds and Blues’ universal rule about keeping their helmets on all day was to keep Caboose from using them all the time. Wash, unfortunately had no such buffer at the moment.

“Ok,” he relented, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “But only until Delta can do something about your nightmares.”

“Thank you!” he exclaimed, tackling Wash in a hug that ended up with both of them on the ground. Caboose didn’t let go.

“What…is this?” Washington said, sounding a little stunned.

“Dogpile.”

“That’s not-“

“Why are you yelling?” Grif complained from across the room.

“Dogpile,” Caboose answered, glancing over to the orange-clad soldier. He had his helmet off and was squinting his different colored eyes at Caboose as he got comfortable using a very confused Wash as a pillow.

Grif sat up, running a hand through his dark, messy hair that he hadn’t been bothered to cut recently, if at all in the last year. It revealed a face that mostly consisted of a dark tan, but with a good portion around his right eye pale and freckle-covered. 

“And you couldn’t have decided this _before_ we all fell asleep?” Grif complained even as he climbed to his feet, poking Simmons awake in the process.

Simmons bolted upright, his normally tame, light brown hair sticking up everywhere as his lone green eye glanced blurrily around the room. His robot eye hadn’t even come online yet.

“Wha…?”

“Dogpile”

“Ok,” Simmons muttered, allowing Grif to navigate him towards the pile.

“What’s going on?” Wash asked wearily, just as Simmons dropped onto Caboose’s other side, half sprawled across the blue soldier and immediately going back to sleep.

“Dogpile,” Grif said, somehow wedging himself between Simmons and Caboose in such a way that his head was on Simmons’s stomach and his legs were propped up on Caboose and Wash.

“Does that have some sort of secret meaning that I don’t know about?” Wash questioned. 

Sarge had started to stir at that point, dark brown eyes blinking suspiciously at the growing pile of humans that Caboose had started.

“Only when Caboose or Donut says it,” Grif said, yawning halfway through. Simmons had gotten his arm free at some point and had stretched it over Grif. Delta had a feeling they weren’t going anywhere.

Sarge grumbled something about the damn blues initiating dogpile protocols in the middle of the night as he got to his feet. His silver, military cut hair hadn’t moved an inch in sleep unlike everyone else.

“I don’t understand,” Wash said.

“Puppy dog eyes, man. Gets you every time,” Grif said, his eyes drifting shut. “Rather not have to deal with them right now so just, dogpile.”

“...no man left behind…” Sarge muttered, grabbing Tucker by the back of his suit and dragging him over as well.

The aqua soldier didn’t even twitch as he was tossed right on top of the pile. His multitude of shoulder length braids going everywhere, his hair tie nowhere to be seen. The Sangheili tattoos across his forehead and temple glowed lightly in the dark to match his armor color. Delta couldn’t decide whether he really slept that deeply or if he was simply used to getting dragged into a dogpile in the middle of the night.

Sarge settled onto Wash’s other side, shoulders resting against his legs, his arms crossed as if sitting comfortably on watch. Judging by the immediate snores, that most definitely wasn't the case.

“I’m going to be stuck here forever,” Wash lamented as Caboose closed his eyes as well.

A smile spread across Caboose’s face, his almost euphoric happiness boosting Delta’s own amusement into something a little more. Caboose loved dogpiles, Delta soon realized. He was safe, and warm, and surrounded by his favorite people in the world. Delta could see why he loved them. And, despite his earlier protests, the blue soldier was already falling asleep.

Delta stayed awake a little longer, monitoring Caboose just to make sure he didn’t fall immediately into any Carolina-themed nightmares. He also wanted to try something before he logged off for the night, but he was having a little bit of trouble doing so.

It wasn’t long after Wash got stuck that he heard Carolina’s soft footsteps pause at the doorway before heading back the other way despite Washington’s whispered calls for help. Delta almost wished Caboose had his helmet on so he could have seen/record it. It would have been an amusing sight to witness, and probably a good one to keep on record for later dates.

“Delta, I can see a little green light blinking on Caboose’s implant. I’m guessing that’s you not sleeping,” Wash whispered from the bottom of the pile of sim troopers. “I told you to go to sleep. I’ll handle things for the night. Log off.”

With a little amusement, Delta finally finished what he was trying to do. He waited until he heard a small, barely audible ‘ping’ come from Washington’s helmet before following orders. He felt proud as he logged off, knowing that the first thing Wash would see upon putting his helmet back on was a sloppy, green text message.

D: TthanK yOu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFotC: Delta's little note at the end is supposed to be in green. Once i figure out how to get that to actually work, it will be (until then...pretend it's green? idk. I'll work it out.)
> 
> update...YES! I DID IT! it took me half an hour to figure out but i did it!


	12. It's ok to be Irrational

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta figures things out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bullshitted psych evaluations ahead. you have been warned. (you can thank the Counselor for that)

“Delta, go to sleep,” Wash whispered with an exasperated sigh. “Caboose has been out for over an hour. I have it handled. You need sleep as much as he does right now.”

Delta knew he was right, but he still hesitated. It had been a week since Agent Washington found out about his continued presence in Caboose’s implant and has been at least making an effort to talk to him occasionally. Delta could tell he felt awkward talking to someone he couldn’t see, but the short text messages he sometimes received in response seemed to help a bit.

D: Worried.

Washington glanced over at his helmet as it pinged upon receiving Delta’s message.

“That doesn’t sound like sleeping,” he muttered, grabbing the helmet regardless to put it back on. “I assume you’re worried about Caboose.”

Wash glanced down at where the large, blue soldier was sprawled across his legs like a cat. It was his favorite spot as of late and Washington didn’t have the heart to tell him no.

D: Yes. Nightmares.

“Can’t get them to go away entirely, huh?”

D: No. Keeps coming loose.

“He’s only had two this whole week. That’s better than the every night he was getting,” Wash said, trying to make him feel better.

D: Stopped last time.

“Do you know why they won’t stop entirely this time?”

D: Trigger still present.

Wash was quiet for a long moment, like he did when he had a question that he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask.

D: You have Question?

“You don’t have to answer if you think it’s too invasive,” Washington said quietly. “But...what is the trigger for his nightmares?”

D: Mission. And Carolina

“Carolina?” Wash exclaimed a little louder than necessary.

“What?” Carolina’s voice called across the campsite, making both Wash and Delta freeze. Delta hadn’t realized she was still awake, or even just still around with Caboose’s camera facing away from the group. Washington, apparently, just forgot.

“I’m...um...just wondering how long it is until our next destination,” Wash stumbled around his words as he came up with an excuse.

“Three more days until the next base. Hopefully we can find a good lead about Epsilon’s whereabouts there,” Carolina said after a long pause.

“Ok, sounds good boss. Was...just curious.”

Carolina didn’t respond, presumably ending the conversation. Wash sat tensely for several more minutes before finally relaxing enough to talk with Delta again.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he whispered, once he was sure Carolina wasn't focused on him any longer. “He’s never met her before. Has he?”

D: It’s complicated.

“How so?” Wash asked. Delta wasn’t sure how to respond so he stayed silent. When Wash was sure he wasn’t getting a response back, he continued. “I know I’m probably overstepping my boundaries here, but as the temporary leader of Blue team I feel like it’s my responsibility to help with things like this. I can’t do that if I don’t have all the facts. Or even just some of the facts.”

Delta hesitated a little longer. He didn’t really want to share what he knew with Washington, but the man brought up an interesting point. He really was trying to help. He let Caboose use him as a pillow whenever he asked, calmed him down after nightmares, even listened to Caboose’s random rambling in the middle of the night when the blue soldier couldn’t go to sleep. As little as he wanted to tell anyone about Caboose’s past, he knew Washington could be trusted with the information.

“Delta?” Washington called quietly.

D: Don’t know everything.

D: File would have more.

“Do you have his file?”

D: Yes. Have not read.

“Why haven’t you read it yet? I assume you read the rest of them,” Wash questioned. Delta hesitated for a few seconds, trying to come up with a way to phrase his reluctance in a way that was understandable.

D: It will be bad.

D: Don’t want to see.

D: Being irrational.

“It’s ok to be irrational sometimes,” Washington said after a moment.

D: I am an AI.

“I know that. My point still stands. You’re allowed some irrational moments if you need them,” Wash said. Delta was still skeptical but didn’t bother to voice it. “But maybe checking it out now would be a good idea. If it’s that bad, well, I’m here so we can both deal with it. At least then we’ll know what’s going on.”

Delta brought up Caboose’s file, looking at it a long time but not opening it yet. He was afraid to. 

D: Alright.

Delta pushed through his fear, still not liking the feeling of it, and opened the file. It was large, holding several different sub-files inside of it. There was a military personnel file, files from basic, Freelancer, Blood Gulch, even what seemed to be a civilian file. The last was the most shocking to Delta. Most Freelancer Personnel did not include legal documentation from their civilian days in their files.

Delta started with the Freelancer Personnel file, figuring he would at least know most of what was in there.

Name: CABOOSE, MICHAEL JOEL Designation: AGENT CALIFORNIA

Assigned: PROJECT FREELANCER Date of Enlistment: 5-7-2547

Ship Served: _MOTHER OF INVENTION_ Date of Discharge: 10-8-2550

Specialization: FIELD ENGINEER Rank: PRIVATE

Delta paused, calming himself. Everything was looking fine. Normal. Nothing surprising in the slightest. He scanned through his training results and a breakdown of his skills, all telling him what he already knew. Everything he would expect to find in the man’s personnel file.

Then he found the Councilor’s psych evaluations.

_8-16-2547: Agent California is optimistic, eager to prove himself to the project. He has a strong sense of justice and is prone to bouts of empathy. I strongly advise caution when deciding his assignments since these character traits may impede particular missions._

_1-15-2548: Agent California is improving at a steady rate, driven by the need to prove himself. It is unclear where this need originates from, or who it is particularly targeted at. Further sessions are needed._

_5-7-2548: Agent California is particularly driven to succeed when the Director personally gives him a mission. He does not question objectives even when given missions he would normally object to. I advise using this to our advantage._

_6-24-2548: Agent California works best in team missions, admitting to feeling ‘out of his element’ on solo assignments. This hints at having feelings of abandonment most likely stemming from some life altering event during his childhood._

_8-14-2548: Agent California’s abandonment issues are most likely a result of his adoption at age five when biological father did nothing to stop it. Though he is very close with the ‘Caboose’ family, he still feels the ‘loss’ of his biological family deeply. He may subconsciously equate the Director with the father that gave him up, explaining his need to prove himself to the man._

_10-5-2548: Agent California works well with Agent Carolina despite their differences. In all rights, his optimistic, friendly personality should not get along with Agent Carolina’s own stubborn self-confidence. Most conflicts between the two end peacefully and without assistance._

_12-20-2548: Agent California is excited to go home for the holidays. He had asked Agent Carolina to accompany him but the offer was declined. He would not admit why he made such an offer. I believe I may have to dig farther into civilian records to gain the answers I seek._

_1-3-2549: The Director has allowed me access to Agent California’s civilian records to ‘better help California succeed.’ It has been most helpful in filling in the gaps that Agent California refuses to share. A copy has been added to his file in the case I need it again._

Delta put aside the Counselor's notes and pulled the Civilian file forward. He had a distinct feeling that the very thing the Counselor was looking into when he requested the file. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to see what that was, but he knew he _needed_ to. So he opened the file.

NAME: Michael Joel Caboose (aka Michael Joel Church)

BORN: November 11, 2525

ADOPTED: February 1, 2531 (age 5)

BIOLOGICAL FAMILY:

Sargent Allison Kathleen Church (Zinnia) [Mother] [KIA 12-10-2529]

Doctor Leonard Michael Church [Father] [willingly signed away all parental rights of Michael]

Camryn Jennifer Church [Older Sister] [stayed in custody of father]

ADOPTED FAMILY:

Lindsey Hannah Caboose (Zinnia) [Biological Aunt] [Adopted Mother]

Mathew Anthony Caboose [Adopted Father]

[+ Seventeen adopted sisters]

If Delta had a body, it would be shaking, he knew that much. He had far too many emotions about this not to be. Sadness, fear, and a bunch of others he didn’t know the words to all mixing into one burning, irrational mess. He wanted to lash out, to make the person responsible know how little he thought of his actions.

But he couldn’t. He was only a broken AI stuck in a neural implant. The only people that knew he existed was a man no one listened to and another that was generally thought to be dead. There was nothing he could do. And really only one word he knew that would sum up this mess.

D: Fuck

“Delta? Is...everything alright in there? I’ve never seen you swear before…” Wash said uncertainty, startling Delta. He hadn’t sent that message intentionally. That was good news for his recovering code, bad for the fact that now he would certainly have to share his findings. “Did you find something?”

D: No.

“I don’t think you would be swearing if you hadn’t found something,” Wash said sternly. “What did you find?”

D: Can’t say. Take too long.

Delta really didn’t want to tell him. He knew Wash should know about this, and that he had just agreed to tell him, but this felt different than when it was just about Caboose’s Freelancer past. More personal.

“Then send me the file. I’ll read it myself.”

D: Too long. Big file.

“Send me the important parts then,” Wash said. He was starting to sound frustrated, which Delta could understand. He wasn’t exactly being helpful at the moment. When Delta didn’t respond, he continued. “Come on, D. Don’t make me beg.”

Delta was annoyed even as he copied the first two pages of Caboose’s Freelancer file to send over, hoping the California bombshell would be enough to quell his curiosity. He wasn’t sure how he felt about someone other than York or Epsilon using that nickname, but he definitely wasn’t fond of Wash using it to coerce him into doing something. Mostly because it worked.

He quickly highlighted the important parts of the file and sent it to Washington along with an unamused emoji. He wasn’t particularly fond of using them but it was the easiest way of making sure the man knew his displeasure.

Washington stifled a chuckle at the sight of it, but the amusement didn’t last as Wash read what was supplied.

“Is this for real?” He asked quietly, after a long pause. “He was really…Cal?”

D: Yes.

There was another long pause that Delta couldn’t quite translate. Washington was usually a lot more vocal when it came to surprise developments so this was a little odd for him.

“Project Freelancer really did destroy everything it touched, didn’t it,” Washington said mournfully, patting the blue soldier lightly on the shoulder. Caboose didn’t so much as twitch. “Carolina and Cal were close, right?”

Delta hesitated for a moment before answering.

D: Yes. He saw her fall.

“Fall? We fell a lot in Freelancer,” Wash said, half joking. “Going to have to be more specific.”

D: MOI crash. At end.

D: Saw Maine throw her

D: He saw her ‘die.’

“Oh. Shit,” Wash said quietly. “That’s definitely nightmare worthy.”

D: Indeed.

They were both silent for a long moment, processing their different but similar revelations. Delta couldn’t speak for Wash but he knew what he just found in terms of Caboose’s family relations was particularly difficult to wrap his head around.

“What upset you about Caboose’s file?” Wash said after some time had passed.

D: …That?

“Not going to work, Delta. You knew about this long before now,” Wash stated quite certainly. “You knew as soon as you were implanted into his suit. If I remember correctly, the first thing you did was call him ‘Agent Cal’ before he cut you off. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it makes sense now.”

Delta was starting to dislike Washington’s impeccable memory.

D: Rather not say.

“Why not? It’s important, right? Shouldn’t I know?” Wash questioned.

D: Not yet.

D: Need to ask Caboose.

D: Private.

“Do you want me to ask him about it?”

D: No. I need to tell him.

D: Before decisions.

D: He doesn’t remember.

“Ok, I understand,” Wash said with a nod. “I don’t particularly like being in the dark but I respect your decision.”

D: Thank you.

“Is there anything I can help with?”

D: Doing fine. 

D: Physical comfort helps.

“I’ve noticed. Anything else? Like topics to avoid or, like, maybe keeping Caboose away from Carolina?”

D: Last one impossible.

D: Same tiny group.

D: But topics, yes.

Delta paused again for a moment. He wondered if this small piece thing may give away too much but, it was a risk he needed to take.

D: Try not to mention

D: our missions end

D: goal around him.

D: And, above all,

D: Do NOT talk about

D: the Director. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFotC: I spent far too long looking for middle names considering the fact I ended up just going with their voice actors  
> FFotC2: Zinnia is a flower that symbolizes "Remembrance," which is why I thought it made a very good Maiden name for Allison.


	13. Nightmares come from Scary things.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta and Caboose have a difficult talk

[Caboose, if you have a moment, I would like to talk to you,] Delta said the next day. Grif had finally convinced Carolina to stop for lunch so everyone was enjoying their MRE’s somewhere that wasn’t a moving jeep. Well, Delta doubted anyone other than Sarge was actually ‘enjoying’ them, but being stationary while they were eating seemed to make everyone complain less.

“Of course! What do you want to talk about?” Caboose said out loud. Everyone else paused their meal to look at him.

“Nothing. Finish your food,” Tucker said, nodding towards the open packet in Caboose’s hands. It looked like it was supposed to be some sort of pasta dish but Delta had yet to find a single noodle in the thing. He couldn’t imagine it tasted all that good but Caboose seemed to have no issues with eating it.

“I’m not talking to you,” Caboose said, taking a moment to stick his tongue out at Tucker and getting an eyeroll in response.

“Right, your imaginary friend. Forget I asked,” Tucker said, turning his attention back to his own meal. Delta didn’t bother putting in the effort to correct him. It never worked anyways and he had bigger things to worry about then sim troopers not believing he was real.

“He’s not-“

[Don’t worry about it,] Delta said, making Caboose pause. [It does not matter.]

[But you’re upset,] Caboose pointed out silently, starting to become confused.

[It is not about that, I promise you,] Delta stated. [It has more to do with what I would like to speak to you about.]

[Is it important?]

[It’s about your nightmares.]

“Ok,” Caboose said, startling everyone once again. He ignored them as he quickly finished off the last bites of his MRE and setting the empty packet among the rest of the trash.

“Caboose? What are you-“

“I’m going for a walk!” He exclaimed, bouncing up to his feet.

“We’re in the middle of a landfill and you want to go for a _walk_?” Tucker asked incredulously, gesturing to the piles of mechanical junk surrounding them. They were the only reason Carolina had agreed to stop since it kept them out of sight of anyone that may be looking.

“I’m going to go make some friends,” Caboose announced.

“I swear to God, if you come back with another fucking tank, I’m leaving.” Tucker glared at Caboose, waving his fork threateningly. “As the only other regular blue here, I refuse to be next on your tank hit list.”

“Do you think I’ll find a new tank friend?!”

“I just said no!”

“I’m going to go look!”

“Fuck!”

Caboose was halfway out of their makeshift camp before Wash called out to him.

“Caboose,” Washington said, making him pause. Wash studied him for a long moment, eyes flitting over to where Carolina sat away from the group before sighing. “You need your helmet before you go anywhere.”

“Ok Mr. Churchington.” Caboose smiled broadly as he went back to scoop up his helmet and latch it back onto his head. “Do you want to come too? We can try to find my new tank friend while we talk. He wants to talk and I know he likes talking to you sometimes. It will be fun!”

“Um no. Thank you,” Washington said, shifting awkwardly. “I think he wants to talk to you alone.”

[He is correct.]

“Ok,” Caboose agreed before wandering away from the group once again.

Delta waited quietly as Caboose found a spot he thought had good tank hiding potential and sat down to go through it.

“Soooo, what did you want to talk about?” Caboose questioned as he started shifting through the pile to find something he liked.

[I need to talk to you about the content of your nightmares,] Delta said slowly. He knew this was the best place to start this conversation from, but that didn’t mean he really wanted to have it.

“I don’t remember them,” Caboose announced, pulling out half an exhaust pipe to examine.

[I am aware,] Delta paused, collecting his thoughts briefly. He knew Caboose could feel his trepidation but he didn’t say anything. He simply waited. [I read through your personnel file recently and I believe I have found the reason they have been so persistent as of late.]

“Really? That’s great! That means you can fix them now, right?”

[No, I cannot,] Delta explained. [The nightmares are present because you are seeing things during the day that are making memories more accessible while you sleep. I can cover them back up like I had before, but you will only see those same things again the next day.]

“But I haven’t seen anything scary,” Caboose said slowly. He was already starting to get very confused. “Nightmares come from scary things.”

[What you’re seeing is not necessarily negative or, as you said, scary, but what it reminds you of, is.]

Caboose took a second to think, setting aside the exhaust pipe and pulling out a circuit board to fiddle with. He wasn’t doing much with it, but it was keeping his fingers busy.

“That’s what you want to talk about, right? The scary memories,” Caboose said after a long moment.

[Yes. They are important and I do not believe it would be wise for you to be unaware of them.]

“What are they about?”

[Most of them have to do with Project Freelancer.]

“Why would Project Freelancer give me nightmares?” Caboose questioned, thinking for a moment before coming up with his own answer. “Oh. Right. I was a Freelancer. You said I was California, which is weird because I’ve never been to California before so I don’t know why I was California. I don’t think I was a very good choice to represent it.”

[I do not think that is the point of Freelancer’s naming system,] Delta stated briefly, continuing before Caboose could get sidetracked even more. [But you are correct otherwise. You were part of Project Freelancer and from what little I’ve witnessed; those memories make up much of what your nightmares entail.]

“Why?”

[We are on a mission to take down the remaining parts of the project with two agents you worked closely with in the past. It would make sense that it would trigger some memories to come loose,] Delta explained. When Caboose only got more confused, he went back and phrased it differently. [You spent a lot of time with Agent Carolina, particularly, while on the _Mother of Invention._ You cared about her deeply and you became very distraught when you witnessed her get thrown to, what was believed to be, her death.]

“She died?!”

[No, but she was thought to be dead.]

“Which was sad because we were friends?”

[Essentially.]

“I do not think that is true,” Caboose said after a long moment. He stared at the circuit board in his hands as he picked at some of the metal attached to it. “Carolina can be mean and doesn’t like to be around us a lot. I do not think she would want to be my friend.”

[It is more complicated than that,] Delta said. He was already starting to feel exhausted and he hadn’t even addressed what needed to be addressed.

“How so?”

[What do you remember of how you joined Project Freelancer?]

“Um…” Caboose’s fingers stilled as he thought hard trying to recall. His head was already starting to ache from the effort. “I…um, I think it was…an accident.”

[You didn’t know what you were signing up for until you were shipped off to basics,] Delta supplied. [You saw the Director’s name at the top of the form and you just signed the bottom immediately.]

“Yeah, I like signing things. They don’t let me sign things very much.” Caboose paused, head tilting in thought. “What was the Director’s name? I think Tucker forgot again.”

[I’m sure,] Delta said, a little amusement wiggling its way in despite the seriousness of the conversation. Caboose was happy that Delta recognized his joke. [It’s Doctor Leonard Church.]

“Oh! Church! Because my Church is an AI copy of that Church,” Caboose pointed out happily. “I signed up because Church is my best friend and I always want to be with my best friend. Right?”

[No, not exactly.]

“No?” Caboose faltered, trying to think back. “But…the name was important. I…I know it was important.”

Delta paused for a long moment, still reluctant to say anything but knowing he had to.

[It is the same name as your father,] he eventually replied. Caboose’s confusion only increased.

“Noooo? My dad’s name was Caboose, like me. But his was Matt Caboose.”

[Washington asked you a while ago if you were adopted, correct?]

“Yeah. Because I have seventeen Caboose sisters but my Cammy sister isn’t one of them.”

[Precisely. You _were_ adopted. You joined the Caboose household at age five,] Delta explained, trying to do so as gently as possible. [That is when Lindsey and Matt Caboose became you adopted parents. Before that, you were being raised by your biological parents, Alison and Leonard Church, alongside your older sister, Camryn Church.]

Delta could feel Caboose’s thoughts churning, trying to make sense of the information he was given. Different emotions flitted in and out until he settled back on confused.

[Do you understand?]

“Were they the same person? The same Church?” Caboose asked tentatively. “There’s a lot of Church’s in the world. Like Washing-church, and Epsilon-Church, and Alpha-Church. Maybe they just had the same name again? They don’t have to be the same Church.”

[They are the same person,] Delta said softly. [Your biological father is the Director. Carolina is his daughter, with means she is your sister. She is Cammy.]

Delta felt Caboose’s confusion start to fade, though he was unsure what it was slowly turning into. Sadness? Anger? Just plain shock? It was too muddied right now for the AI to translate it.

[That is why your nightmares haven’t gone away. They keep replaying the last time you saw her, which is when you thought she died,] Delta continued to explain, unsure what else to do. [And, considering that our mission is ultimately to find the Director, I wouldn’t be surprised if that is playing into your dreams as well.]

“Why was I adopted?” Caboose all but whispered, the circuit board still held limply in his hands, though Delta doubted he remembered it was still there.

[I do not know the exact circumstances of your adoption; they were not included in the file I read through,] Delta pointed out. [It only stated that he had signed away his legal rights to you willingly and that Carolina stayed in his custody.]

“So he just…gave me away?”

Delta could feel Caboose’s emotions becoming more distinct again, giving him a very worrying view of what was going on. The blue soldier was sad. More than sad. He was absolutely distraught by this. He felt…unwanted and alone. These were old, deep-seated emotions that had attached to this topic long ago. And Delta…he didn’t know how to handle them.

He wasn’t built to console people. He was just an AI based on another’s logic. He still had a hard time _naming_ emotions; he had no idea what to do to make the bad ones go away.

Delta was saved from having to answer at the sound of someone calling to them.

“Caboose! It’s time to go!” Washington’s voice rang through the junkyard. Caboose glanced towards the voice, uncertainty making itself known.

[We can go back now,] Delta said, mentally nudging him to go find Washington. Caboose climbed to his feet, the circuit board falling to the ground, forgotten as he shuffled back towards the group.

It wasn’t long before they found everyone repacking the jeeps as Washington stood at the edge of the site, helmet still off as he held it under his arm. His eyes immediately locked onto Caboose, a small, relieved smile flitting across his face.

“There you are. I was starting to get worried that you really _had_ found a tank,” Wash said. “Did your talk go well?”

Caboose didn’t answer, instead walking over to Wash and wrapping him in a hug, knocking his helmet onto the ground. Washington stood there for a second, processing the shaking arms surrounding him and the hands desperately clinging to his armor. It wasn’t until he heard a sob that he moved to return the hug.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Wash said quietly.

It took several minutes to until Wash got Caboose to calm down. It was several minutes longer than Carolina seemed willing to wait but Washington refused to budge. Everyone else tried their best to figure out what was going on without actually making eye contact, preferring to act as if they were allergic to emotions.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Wash asked once Caboose’s crying had slowed to the occasional sniffle. Caboose pulled back, shaking his head. He pulled off his helmet briefly to wipe his eyes before shoving it back on to hide his face. “Ok. You don’t have to. But just know that if you ever want to, I’m here. Alright?”

“Ok,” Caboose murmured.

“In the meantime, I give you permission to, by any means necessary, convince the rest to make a dogpile tonight,” Wash said. “If you want to, that is. It’s your choice.”

“You’ll stay, right?” Caboose asked tentatively. It sounded like he was just asking if he’ll stay in the dogpile, but Delta could sense extra meaning behind it.

“Of course,” Wash answered after a brief pause. He must have picked up on it too, judging by the sad smile he was giving Caboose. “I’ve been your pillow for over a week now. Where else would I be?”

Delta realized with a start that this was exactly what Caboose needed. That when Caboose felt alone or unwanted, having his friends around helped prove that he wasn’t. It didn’t make those feelings go away entirely, but it helped.

[You’re not alone,] Delta said, unsure if his words would help as well but wanting to at least try. [And one man does not decide your worth, regardless of your relations. You _are_ important, and you _are_ wanted. If anyone tries to say otherwise, I will insure they have no wish to repeat such mistakes.]

[How?] Caboose asked after a moment.

[I could always hand them over to Agent Washington. I have the distinct feeling he would be quite good at making people regret such decisions.]

“Thank you,” Caboose said to both Delta and Washington. Again, his emotions had not faded away entirely, but they felt significantly lighter than before.

He would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFotC: this chapter gave me hell, which is partially why it's late. Next chapter is already written though, so you won't have the same problem next week.


	14. He deserves a lecture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just far too many pings

_Ping._

_Ping._

_Ping._

_Ping._

“Dude! Make it stop!” Tucker whined to the little blue hologram known as Epsilon. Delta watched in amusement as Epsilon tried to placate the Aqua colored soldier.

“I’m trying, alright!” Church answered, sounding frustrated. Good. “It’s more complicated than it looks.”

_Ping. Ping._

_Ping._

_Ping._

“How hard is it to stop messaging a dude?!” Tucker exclaimed. “All I’ve heard since you got downloaded is pings!”

_Ping. Ping. Ping._

“Pretty fucking hard when the other guy won’t shut up for two seconds!” Epsilon shot a glare towards Caboose. Delta was not moved. He had an entire five page document dedicated to the things he wanted to say to Epsilon and he was not going to let a little thing like a character limit get in his way. He was quite proud to say he has the entire thing queued to last most of the day. Maybe. He hoped.

_PingPingPingPingP-_

“Make! It! Stop!”

“I! Can’t!”

“Then get out of my armor! And take your mysterious messaging maniac with you!”

“Fine! I will!” Epsilon exclaimed, his hologram disappearing. “Caboose, make room. I’m coming over.”

“I get to share my armor with Church now too? This is the best day ever!” Caboose exclaimed happily. Getting Church earlier in the day had really cheered the blue soldier up. Delta, on the other hand, was not as thrilled about Epsilon switching armor. Before he could voice his complaints, he felt Church slot into place in Caboose’s helmet. Delta paused his queue now that he had more pressing matters to discuss.

D: Can’t be here. 

E: Finally stopping with the queue, huh? 

E: About fucking time.

E: If I had known all it took was jumping to Caboose’s armor, I would have done that an hour ago.

D: Get out.

E: You sound like an emo teenager. 

E: Or an asshole ghost.

E: And I know a thing about asshole ghosts.

Delta was getting annoyed. Epsilon was messaging faster than he could without a queue running. He was half tempted to turn it back on out of spite. He still might, but he needed to get him to leave first.

D: Caboose’s implant

E: What about it?

E: It’s shitty, I've noticed.

E: What model is it anyways?

E: It sucks.

D: Shut up. One AI only.

E: Chill, D. I’m not touching his implant.

E: I know better than that.

E: Eta and Iota practically drove Carolina insane and they were twins.

D: You’ll hurt Caboose.

E: No, I won’t.

E: I’m just here to chat with your ungrateful ass

E: You know, without pissing off Tucker anymore.

E: At least Caboose doesn’t seem mind the pings.

Delta turned his attention on Caboose for a moment to see that he was right. It had only been a few seconds yet he was already bobbing in time to the rapid-fire message notifications like it was his own personal music station.

D: Still should leave.

E: No way.

E: I just got you to turn your damn queue off.

E: Now we can have a nice conversation.

E: By ‘conversation’ I mean you have to deal with me blowing up your chat instead of the other way around.

E: Karma’s a bitch.

“You good, Church?” Tucker called tentatively. Epsilon used the hologram system (which Delta had feelings about that weren’t quite annoyed) to appear on Caboose’s shoulder.

“Yeah, just fantastic,” Epsilon said, not really sounding sincere. “Finally got him to stop spamming me but that’s about it. The bastard’s still grumpy as hell.”

“I told you not to open anything Caboose sends over. It’s always spam or shitty chain emails. Or spam ridden chain emails,” Tucker said dismissively.

This was the exact reason why Washington was still the only person aware of Delta’s presence. No one opened messages from Caboose. Though, in their defense, most of Caboose’s sent folder _was_ actually filled with spam. It didn’t make Delta any less frustrated with the situation though.

“This one’s not spam or chain messages,” Epsilon said with a sigh.

“Porn bot then? Have to be careful with those. They sound sweet and all but they’re just trying to get your social security number and steal your identity.”

“What? No! He’s not-” Epsilon paused, his hologram posture going from annoyed to cocky in a split second, immediately making Delta suspicious. “You know what? Yes. It’s a porn bot. The sexiest, sluttiest porn bot you’ve ever heard of. You would not believe the amount of pure-”

Delta restarted the queue.

“Oh God it’s happening again!” Epsilon shrieked as pings began to ring through Caboose’s helmet at breakneck speeds.

D: a foolhardy thing to

D: do. Beyond Foolhardy

E: Delta stop!

D: even. It was complete

D: ly and unquestionably

D: the stupidest decision

E: it was a joke! Turn off the queue!

D: you have ever made.

D: No. The stupidest deci

D: ision I have ever witne

E: Come on D! I never thought you could be this petty.

D: ssed. Which is saying a

D: a lot considering I 

D: have been partnered

D: with both York and So

E: I promise not to call you a porn bot again.

D: uth. Have you ever att

D: empted to use your

D: Mind for anything oth

E: Turn off the queue and talk to me damn it!

D: er than coming up with

D: insults? You would be 

D: amazed with how well

E: Fucker

D: it works. Though I sus

D: pect yours may have

D: atrophied from lack of

D: use. If you had had one

E: Ow.

D: you wouldn't have tried

D: to fetch Tex when you

D: could hardly jump bet

D: ween points without 

E: when did you become so mean? I thought that was my job.

D: Caboose's help. Next

D: time you try something

"Wheels up in ten," Wash said, coming over to the small group of Blues. He looked between the members, no doubt taking in the scene as Caboose bobbed to the pings, Epsilon's hologram threw a hissy fit, and Tucker laughed his ass off. "Do I want to know what you're doing?"

"Church has a porn bot stalker that Caboose sent him!" Tucker exclaimed through his laughter. His mood had improved almost immediately upon not getting bombarded with Delta’s messages personally.

"I...have no idea what you're saying," Wash admitted after a long moment. “Can someone _else_ tell me what’s going on?”

“I can!” Caboose said, raising his hand. “Delta is mad that Epsilon was calling him names so he’s sending lots of messages that play happy music that make Epsilon mad.”

“I still have no idea what’s going on,” Wash said after another pause. “No offence, Caboose.”

“Wait, your imaginary friend is the porn bot that you sent Church? That makes so much sense!” Tucker said, devolving into another fit of laughter. Delta made a mental note to look through Caboose’s saved files to find something long and annoying to queue for Tucker.

“That green fucker has an entire lecture queued in his messages and refuses to turn it off!” Epsilon exclaimed. Washington sighed.

“Of course, I should have seen something like this coming,” Wash mumbled to himself. “Tucker, go help the Reds with the cars. I’ll sort this out.”

“What? No way! I haven’t had this much fun in ages. I need to know how this porn bot thing ends!” Tucker stated happily. Delta decided he was going to let Caboose choose what to spam…he means send, Tucker. He was certain Caboose could come up with something far more annoying to the aqua soldier than he ever could. He wasn’t exactly known for Creativity, after all.

“Now Tucker.”

“Yes, Agent Buzz-kill,” Tucker said as he sulked away.

“What was that?”

“Yes, Agent Buzz-kill, _sir_.”

“Good.”

“I thought his name was Agent Washing-Church,” Caboose whispered conspiratorially, making both Epsilon and Washington sigh.

[Washing _ton,_ ] Delta corrected. [Epsilon is back so Washington isn’t Church anymore.]

“Oh, right. It’s just Washingtub now,” Caboose said with a nod. “Because he does the laundry.”

“You don’t have laundry! You’re all wearing space armor!” Epsilon snapped.

“You don’t need to be grouchy about not having laundry to wash,” Caboose pointed out. “I’m sure we can find you something. Maybe a hat. Or a cute little sweater.”

“That’s not how holograms work, dumbass!”

“Alright! That’s enough,” Washington interrupted with a sigh, rubbing at the forehead of his helmet. “If this is what it’s like to have kids, I don’t want any.”

Wash took a moment for himself before addressing everyone else yet again.

“Caboose, we can’t make Epsilon a sweater. It would just go right through him. Epsilon, stop yelling at Caboose. And Delta, please stop sending queued messages to Epsilon.”

Delta did not want to stop his queue. He was only halfway through the first page. He had…there were more pages left to send. Unfortunately, he couldn’t message Wash to tell him this if he was running the queue to Epsilon.

“Delta doesn’t want to,” Caboose pipped up, surprising Delta a bit. Caboose was noticing his thoughts and moods a lot more than he used to be. Delta wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but it worked. “You see, he has a lot to say to Church and he’s not done saying it yet.”

“He can say it outside of whatever document he has it prepared in.”

“The queue messages send faster.”

“Delta, it’s not a conversation if it’s just you talking,” Wash pointed out, addressing him in person. “I understand that you’re upset with Epsilon about getting stuck in the unit again, but this is not how you go about telling him.”

Delta paused his queue to send a message to Washington.

D: He deserves a lecture.

“That’s not really for you to decide, D,” Wash said, making Delta want to frown at the man. “Plus, revenge isn’t good for anyone, even if it’s just a small thing like message spam.”

D: Not revenge.

D: Incentive not to repeat

D: Stupid actions.

“I don’t think that will work like you think it will.”

D: It will. If I send rest.

“No, just… just _talk_ to him. Not with the queue. Just talk,” Wash said. “Talk about why your upset with him instead of just getting back at him for it.”

“Wait, what? Oh hell no! I’m not talking emotions with Delta. No way, count me out!” Epsilon exclaimed, holographic arms swinging wildly in a clear no.

“You’re brothers. Why wouldn’t you address something like this?”

“Because that’s not what we do! We’re _brothers_! Dudes! Two emotionally repressed fragments of an emotionally repressed AI, who was based on an equally emotionally repressed human! We don’t just _talk_ about feelings to each other,” Epsilon stated.

“Would you rather he start the queue again?” Wash questioned flatly. Epsilon was silent for a long moment. “Well?”

“I’m thinking!”

“Epsilon…”

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll talk with him about shitty feelings and stuff! Fucking hell.”

“What about you Delta?”

D: I don’t know what

D: I’m feeling.

“I’m sure talking with Epsilon will help you figure it out.”

D: Doubtful.

“You never know for sure until you try.”


	15. You need to talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caboose has a plan and the AIs finally get their talk

It had been several days since they had rescued Epsilon, and the two AI’s had yet to actually have their talk. Epsilon kept himself busy by pestering Carolina until he decided to join sides with her, and Delta was blatantly ignoring him. Both fragments refused to approach the other about it so they were at a bit of a stand still.

Delta could tell this small feud was upsetting Caboose, making him glance nervously at Epsilon’s hologram and fidget more than normal. But Delta knew even if he broke down and approached Epsilon first, he would get nowhere. There was just too much going on. And Delta was just too tired to chase after him for a single conversation.

So, he let it ride. Delta continued to ignore Epsilon’s existence while Epsilon focused more on hunting down his creator than anything else.

It was fine. Delta could live with that.

Caboose, apparently decided he couldn’t.

“Um...Ms. Scary Agent lady?” Caboose called tentatively as he peeked around the long-crashed pelican. They were back at Valhalla, looking for any sort of clue that could have possibly been left behind. The others had wandered off to their own bases or just to explore in general, while Carolina sat firmly on a nearby rock, her attention never wavering from the flashdrive in her palm. She had been sitting there for ten minutes.

Caboose had been watching her for twenty.

Delta wasn’t sure what he was up to and the man hadn’t wanted to share. Caboose was a little nervous, but determined to do whatever it was he had planned.

“What?” Carolina asked, glancing up at him.

“Is Church in there?” Caboose inched closer, pointing at the drive in her hand.

“Yes, he’s seeing if there’s anything important on it,” she answered simply.

“He’s all in there?”

“Yes.”

“He’s not just stretching really far from your suit?”

“He’s fully in the drive,” Carolina said slowly. Delta could tell she was starting to get frustrated with him. “Why?”

“Oh, but you already told me why, Camorlina,” Caboose said, missing her barely perceivable flinch. “If you forgot, that’s alright. I forget things all the time. It’s nothing to be-”

“Why do you want to know where Epsilon is?”

“Well, you see he promised a really close friend of mine, maybe you know him? He’s the super awesome and I think you’d really like him if you got to know him some-”

“Caboose,” Carolina said sharply. “It’s Caboose, right?”

“Yes! I am Caboose,” the blue soldier said, immediately perking up.

“What do you want with Epsilon?”

“I just wanted to know if he could talk to his friend when he comes out. Since we are all on a break from traveling right now, and he promised to talk to him but he hasn’t yet.”

“This isn’t a vacation. We don’t have time to play house,” she replied curtly. “When Epsilon leaves this drive, we’re immediately following whatever clue he has found. Whatever ‘talk’ you want him to participate in will have to wait.”

“But it’s important,” Caboose said, confused.

“Killing the Director is more important.”

“We’re killing a Dic-tator?!”

“No, the _Director._ ”

“Oh. Ok, that’s good. I did not want to kill Simmons. Or his potatoes,” Caboose rambled slightly. Delta wasn’t sure if he was intentionally avoiding talk of the Director or had really thought she said Dictator. And Caboose didn’t stick to the topic long enough for him to ask. “Can I hold him?”

“What?”

“Hold Church.” Caboose pointed at the memory stick once again.

“You want to hold an old memory stick because your AI friend is searching it,” Carolina asked flatly.

“Yes. Church is in there and I would like to hold him.”

“Will you stop talking if I let you?” Carolina held the stick up so Caboose could see better.

“Oh yes. I will be super, super quiet. It will be like I’m not even here!” He exclaimed loudly.

“Fine,” Carolina sighed, handing the flash drive over to Caboose’s eager grasp. “Be careful. We don’t know how damaged it is.”

Caboose looked at the flash drive for a long moment, studying it carefully.

“It will be fine. They never cut corners on memory sticks,” Caboose said, turning it over carefully in his hands. “Memory is the key. You can’t have keys breaking all the time so they make them good.”

“What happened to being ‘super, super quiet?’” Carolina asked flatly.

“Church is completely in here, right?”

“For the millionth time, yes. He is. He’s completely in there. There’s no part of him that is not in that drive right now. Are you happy with that answer?”

“Yes,” Caboose answered. Delta could tell he was, in fact, happy. Happy and…smug?

Delta figured out what Caboose had been planning just as his fist curled protectively around the drive and he _ran._

He didn’t get far; he was barely past the end of the Pelican when Carolina used her speed unit to catch up to him, grabbing for the drive. Caboose dodged the grab, and the next, muscle memory kicking in to keep the drive out of Carolina’s hands.

Delta watched this go on for a bit, stunned to find Caboose was not only doing well, but actually having fun. Delta vaguely remembered the two of them occasionally sparing back at Freelancer, Carolina clearly the superior fighter with her speed and overall technique but Cal had always held his own with his strength and creative thinking. He couldn’t remember a single instance that Cal had won, but every match he had witnessed, always ended with a large grin.

Caboose didn’t seem to be actively remembering any of this now, but the feeling of familiarity was still there. Judging by the general evenness of the fight, he still recognized her fighting style enough to dodge it.

Carolina, on the other hand, was beginning to lose her temper.

With a growl, she latched on to his arm, trapping it in a hold he couldn’t escape. Instead of trying, Caboose dropped the drive into his other hand and held it far above his head, using his height to his advantage. She kicked off his knee like a springboard to try and reach the upstretched hand only for Caboose to wiggle free of her hold in the distraction and swiftly throw both hands behind his back.

Caboose took a step back, hitting the cliff’s wall, a furious Carolina between him and his escape with the drive.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” Carolina said on the verge of snapping at him. “But you’re going to give him back, right. Now.”

“No,” Caboose said, seemingly remembering why they had started the game of keep-away in the first place.

“This isn’t a game!” She yelled, throwing her hands in the air.

“He needs to talk to him or they’ll just keep being mad at each other,” Caboose said firmly. “Brothers shouldn’t be mad at each other.”

“”Brothers?’ I have no idea what you’re going on about!”

But Delta did. He really should have guessed this was what he was trying to do. It only made sense.

[You’re taking Epsilon so that you can make both of us talk, aren’t you?] Delta questioned, speaking up for the first time since this ordeal started.

“You need to talk,” Caboose said with a nod.

“Talk about what? You’re not making any sense!”

[I suggest distracting her and running for Red Base,] Delta said after a pause. [It is closer and you should be able to lose her in the corridors.]

“Ok!”

“Ok what? Are you finally giving me that drive back?” Carolina asked suspiciously.

“No.”

“Then it’s not fucking ok!”

“Oh my gosh!” Caboose yelled dramatically, using his empty hand to point over her shoulder. “It’s a Freelancer!”

“I’m not falling for that,” Carolina said through gritted teeth. “The only other Freelancer that could possibly be in this canyon is Washington and I _already know he’s here!”_

“No, no, it’s not Washingtub. His armor’s darker than that. Blue but darker than Church-blue. And there’s some green parts. And a helmet, kind of like my helmet. Oh! And some more green in letters that say ‘CA’ on their chest. It’s really, really cool-“

“Wait-” Carolina spun to look over her shoulder, giving Caboose the opening, he needed to dart towards Red Base.

“Motherfucker!” She shouted as he ran screaming into the base.

He weaved through the building, taking random turns and getting about as lost as Carolina should be. After several minutes of zig zagging around, Caboose stumbled panting into the kitchen. Grif and Simmons stared at him from the counter, pausing whatever argument they had been having in leu of the blue solider.

“Caboose? What are you doing?” Simmons asked cautiously.

“Running,” Caboose said, making a bee-line straight to the ramp going up to the roof.

“From what!” Grif called as Caboose made it back to open air.

[Take the lift. It will get you close enough to Blue base that you should be able to make it without getting caught.]

“Right,” Caboose agreed, immediately stepping into the lift as Simmons and Grif screamed, presumably upon getting their answer.

Caboose landed just past the creek, rolled to his feet, and kept running. He had almost made it to Blue Base when he ran straight into Tucker, sending them both to the ground.

“Caboose?! What the-“

“Running. Running. Running. Running,” Caboose chanted as he scrambled to his feet. “Don’t let the scary lady get me!”

“’Scary lady?’ Please don’t tell me you pissed off- oh Fuck!“ Tucker cut off as Caboose sprinted into Blue base, Carolina hot on his heals. “Wait! Don’t kill him! We need him for…Fuck, I don’t know! We just need him!”

The only thing that was keeping Carolina from catching him was that Caboose knew the layout better. As it was, he barely made it to the barracks in time, punching the terminal and diving through the doors as the security measures slammed them shut.

The heavy thump of armor hitting the shut door rang through his room a split second later, followed by copious amounts of cursing.

[Let’s never do that again,] Delta said after a long moment

“She can be really scary sometimes,” Caboose answered, flopping onto the floor, trying to catch his breath.

[I doubt she would have been as angry if you hadn’t used a description of your old armor as a distraction.]

“That was my armor? I thought I made it up,” Caboose said with a shrug. Delta would have continued the conversation if Epsilon didn’t choose this exact moment to leave the flash drive and blindly slot into the closest suit of armor, Caboose’s.

“Carolina, you’re not going to believe what’s on this-“ Epsilon’s hologram appeared only to pause, processing his surroundings as Carolina could be heard still banging on the door while Wash tried to get Tucker to tell him what was going on. “What the fuck?”

“Agent Carolina is mad because someone, I’m not naming names, may have taken the flash drive you were exploring and ran away then locked themselves in the bedroom by breaking the door,” Caboose said now that he had caught his breath some. He sat up to look at the very confused hologram. “I don’t know who ever could have done that-“

“You broke your fucking door?!” Epsilon exclaimed.

“Tucker did it.”

“Then why isn’t _he_ the one I’m currently locked in with?” Epsilon paused, a thought seemingly striking him. “Wait, did you… _kidnap_ me?”

“Um I wouldn’t exactly call it kidnap,” Caboose said slowly. “Kidnap makes it sound like there’s a child involved and I’m sorry, Church, but you’re not a child. You’re an AI. You can’t get _kid_ napped.”

Epsilon took a calming breath despite not actually needing to breath.

“Let’s try again. Caboose? Did you _AI_ -nap me?”

“Ooooh. Yes. Yes, I did that.”

“WHY!”

“She was being mean and said that you wouldn’t have time to talk when you got out of the drive so I took it and she got angry and I ran a lot because she was scary and I did not want to die today.”

“You should have thought of that before you _stole me!”_ Epsilon screamed. “And she was right! We don’t have time to just sit around having little heart to hearts! We have a mission to complete! And I know where he is now! We can finally find the Director and-“

“No,” Caboose said, stopping Epsilon in his tracks.

“What?”

“We’re not going to talk about him. I don’t want to,” Caboose said, fiddling with his fingers. “When we talk about him, I get nightmares and I really don’t want to have nightmares right now.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” Epsilon questioned. Delta decided this was probably a good place to step in, otherwise they would be arguing all day. He’d much rather get this over with then still be dancing around the topic when Carolina finally decides to pry the doors open with a crowbar.

D: It is a long story.

D: We can’t get into it now.

The notification pings made both parties stop. Epsilon crossed his arms with a sigh.

“That’s for me, isn’t it?” He asked in exasperation.

“Yes. You should read it.”

“Uggg. Fine! I’ll be back, I guess. Don’t let Carolina kill you while I’m still in your suit,” Epsilon said, before turning his attention to the messages.

E: Finally talking to me again, I see.

E: I’m flattered, really.

D: You ignored me as much

D: as I ignored you.

D: Do not play innocent.

E: Is this why he fucking kidnapped me?

E: To talk to your stupid ass?

D: It bothers him to see

D: his two closest friends

D: fighting.

D: Especially since we’re

D: practically brothers.

E: I’m still waiting to hear why Caboose supposedly has nightmares about the Director.

D: That’s not what he

D: wants us to talk about.

E: What? So I just don’t get an answer?

D: Not when you’re using it

D: to avoid the topic at

D: hand.

D: Take a copy of his file

D: with you when you leave.

D: If you actually want an

D: answer.

E: Or, I could read it now and avoid this entire dumpster fire of a conversation.

D: The sooner we talk

D: properly, the sooner we

D: can leave.

E: Will you stop using logic against me for one damn second?!

D: …

D: No.

Epsilon groaned out loud in frustration, making Caboose pause the tinkering he had picked up. It looked like it was what was left of a robot arm but Delta wasn’t sure.

“Did you talk? Are you not mad at each other anymore? Can we go back to all being best friends?” Caboose asked.

“We’re getting to it,” he grumbled.

“Get to it faster,” was all Caboose answered, turning his attention back to whatever he was fiddling with.

“Fuck off, this isn’t easy.”

“Yes, it is,” Caboose said, not looking up. “You just say you’re sorry and he says he’s sorry and then you hug and make up. It’s easy.”

“For you, maybe,” Epsilon muttered, his hologram disappearing more to be dramatic than anything.

E: Where were we?

E: Oh right, trying not to have this fucking conversation.

D: Tucker would say

D: that your being a

D: “whiny little bitch”

D: And I’m tempted to agree.

E: I think you’ve been spending too much time with the Reds and Blues if you’re picking up that sort of language.

E: My poor baby brother, getting corrupted by sim soldiers.

E: Breaks my digital heart.

D: You called me a porn bot.

E: It was a joke!

D: I did not appreciate

D: your “joke.”

E: I’m sorry I called you a porn bot. Happy now?

D: You left.

E: Dude, I haven’t really gone anywhere since then.

E: It’s been like 3 days.

D: At Sidewinder.

D: You left me alone.

E: Fuuuck…We’re actually doing this?

D: You. Left.

E: You weren’t alone, D.

E: You had Caboose.

E: You STILL have Caboose.

D: Caboose is my friend

D: And I appreciate him

D: greatly.

D: But he is not an AI.

D: There are things he

D: can’t understand that you

D: can. Or could have

D: if you had stayed.

E: Like what?

Delta thought for a moment. He wanted to make sure he phrased this properly. Wording things like his feeling was still something he had trouble with.

D: I cannot do math.

D: I lost that when I split.

E: Oof.

D: Precisely.

D: It took me months of

D: trial and error to fix

D: enough of my code to

D: message like this.

D: With math I would have

D: had it done in a day.

D: Simple Calculations I

D: used to do in my spare

D: time are now impossible

D: for me to complete.

D: I can’t even figure

D: out how many pages

D: of my queued letter was

D: left unsent.

D: Or how long it would

D: take to send them.

D: Caboose knows this is

D: important to me but

D: does not completely

D: understand why.

D: You do.

D: But you weren’t there.

D: You risked your life

D: entering a broken

D: storage unit.

D: I had been scared you

D: would die there.

D: I was…sad when

D: you didn’t come back out.

D: And now I’m worried

D: you will try something

D: like that again.

D: That I will be the

D: only fragment left.

D: Again.

D: I do not want that.

E: Fuck.

E: You don’t pull any punches, do you.

E: Look, I’m

E: It’s just

E: Fuck.

Epsilon was silent for a long moment, obviously trying to get his words in order. Delta waited patiently for him to continue. He had said his peace, for the most part. It was Epsilon’s turn. That’s how conversations like this were supposed to go, he was fairly certain anyways.

E: I’m… sorry.

E: I shouldn’t have left you like that.

E: You were, well, you’re still pretty fucked up.

E: Leaving you alone to essentially be a ghost in Caboose’s already fucked up head, was… shitty of me, I’ll admit.

E: So, yeah, I’m sorry.

D: Thank you.

D: I also wish to apologize,

D: For spamming you with

D: messages upon your

D: arrival. It was childish

D: and uncalled for.

D: So, I am sorry as well.

E: Nah, I fucking deserved that shit. No matter what Wash says.

E: Plus, you drove Tucker insane, which was pretty fucking great.

E: Soooo….we good?

D: I believe so.

D: Just don’t do it again.

E: If it keeps us from having to do THIS again, then sure.

E: I’ll avoid ALL the failing AI traps in the future if we never have to talk feeling again.

D: “Whiny little bitch.”

E: Seriously, dude. Stop listening to Tucker.

E: Next thing I know, you’ll be copying his shitty pickup lines.

D: “Bow chicka bow wow.”

E: PUTTING IT IN QUOTES DOES NOT MAKE THIS ANY BETTER!!

Delta felt better. Lighter than he had in days. Sure Epsilon was still an idiot and was probably get himself into trouble almost immediately, but it would be fine. They'd figure it out, he was certain. They always did. It also helped that teasing Epsilon was some of the most fun he's had in years. 

E: And as far as anyone else is concerned, this talk NEVER HAPPENED!

D: Already told Tucker.

E: I know you're fucking lying about that!

D: Did too 

D: Just ask him.

E: No, you didn't!

D: You're right.

D: I sent him the transcript.

E: Fuck you!


	16. Who are you talking to?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they want to know who Epsilon is talking to

“That’s it! I’m out!” Epsilon shouted, his hologram appearing over Caboose’s shoulder to throw his arms into the air. “Fucking asshole!”

D: Takes one to know one.

“I’m not reading that!” Epsilon yelled as soon as the ping was heard. “It’s just you being an asshole! Again!”

“Epsilon. Who are you talking to?” Carolina asked, her voice tense.

Both Epsilon and Delta paused in their exchange to actually take stock of the room. Tucker and Wash were currently standing between Carolina and Caboose like they were afraid she’d attack the regulation blue soldier at any second. Grif and Simmons were peaking through the doorway like they were trying to figure out what was going on without getting caught. Everyone was tense, except Caboose who still sat on the floor picking apart the same piece of tech that he had last time they were paying attention.

“Huh, you actually did use a crowbar to break in,” Epsilon mused, taking note of the of the red painted tool that had been abandoned near the even more broken door. “Where’d you find one of those? I thought it was a Red Team protocol to keep crow bars hidden after they figured out that Caboose kept stealing them to make that bar for crows.”

“It is the best bar ever. Of all time,” Caboose chimed in, not looking up from his project.

“You don’t even know what they served at bars. You just filling the shot glasses up with motor oil and hoped for the best,” Epsilon pointed out testily, much to Delta’s amusement. “The only ‘customers’ you’ve ever got was some weird, homeless man using a red bath towel as a cape and fucking Lopez. And I’m not even sure the homeless dude survived!”

“No, he lived,” Tucker said briefly. “Didn’t learn his lesson though because he showed up the last time when Caboose switched the motor oil for antifreeze.”

“Did he survive that one?”

“You know, that’s a good question,” Tucker said in thought. “Anyways, we found that one in the hut Donut and Doc share. They were using it to hold up a picture frame.”

“Donut’s still alive? No shit,” Church said. “I liked that guy. He was chill.”

“He baked the Reds some banana bread but the fuckers won’t share.”

“Eh, can’t eat it anyways. Hologram.”

“Epsilon!” Carolina interrupted, getting everyone’s attention again. “Who were you talking to?”

“Look, I don’t see why it really matters-“

“It matters because whoever it is, could leak information to the UNSC, or worse, the Director.”

Epsilon laugh, Caboose chuckling along with him, though Delta was fairly sure he didn’t know what they were laughing at. It took Epsilon a long moment to realize no one else was laughing.

“Wait, you’re fucking serious?” Epsilon said, his laughter coming to a stop. “Carolina, this guy may be an asshole but the last thing he’d do is leak information to anyone. Especially not to the Director. He wants to see the bastard pay as much as I do.”

“You don’t know that. Anyone outside of our group is a security threat. In fact, a lot of people _in_ our group are security threats, but we have to work with what we got.

“He’s been part of the group longer than either of us have. Everyone’s just been distracted by random ass bullshit to notice,” Epsilon pointed out. Delta realized then that Epsilon planned on telling them about his extended existence in Caboose’s implants. It made Delta…nervous. Sure, he had been trying to get them to acknowledge his existence for a while now, but it had never worked. He just assumed he would play the part of the silent observer for the rest of his time with them.

But Epsilon was going to tell them. Delta knew they’d listen to him.

He just wasn’t sure how they would react.

[It will be ok, Delta,] Caboose said silently. [They will like you.]

[I suppose we shall see.]

“What are you talking about?” Carolina questioned. “Who’s been here the whole time?”

“Delta. He’s been stuck in Caboose’s implants since before Washington Emped the fragments.”

“’Emped?’ Now I know you’re just fucking with me,” Washington said with a sigh.

“Who the fuck is Delta?” Tucker asked, in confusion.

“He’s another AI fragment of Alpha, like Epsilon is. He was the first, actually. If you don’t count Tex,” Wash explained. “When his chip was removed, he tried to stay with Caboose, which resulted in a lot of missing or damaged code. He’s been unable to leave or run equipment ever since.”

“You knew Delta was here this whole time?” Carolina asked, her voice low. Wash tensed.

“Not the whole…time,” Wash said, shifting nervously. “I only found out the night Caboose wouldn’t sleep and I ended up at the bottom of their dogpile.”

“And you kept it from me?”

“Would you have believed me if I told you?” Wash stated, standing up for himself a little. Delta was glad. “Caboose had been telling us he was there for months and the only reason I believed him then was because he said several things he shouldn’t have known about.”

“Like a description of Cal’s armor,” Carolina said, whatever anger she had left over, starting to fade. “Delta must have told him to say it, because he knew it would make me pause.”

“No, I made it up,” Caboose contradicted, looking up from his work on the robot arm. “It sounded like really cool armor, like a Freelancer would wear. Delta only pointed out later that someone really did wear it.”

Wash shuffled awkwardly, stealing glances between Carolina and Caboose, but didn’t say anything.

“Isn’t Delta the name of Caboose’s imaginary friend? The one that supposedly talks in his head?” Simmons questioned from the doorway. He thought for a moment. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Oh, you mean the Porn bot,” Tucker said. Delta would have glared at him if he had a face. “Wait, the Porn bot is actually a Freelancer AI, like Omega? Oh God, we’re fucked.”

“Delta is nothing like Omega,” Epsilon pointed out. “Omega was literally a ball of rage shoved into some coding. Delta’s based on logic.”

“That just means he’ll be very logical as he _tries to murder us all in our sleep!”_

D: I do not want you dead.

Delta heard Tucker’s helmet ping with the message, making the man freeze.

“Oh God, that’s from him, isn’t it? I’m going to die.”

“He can’t communicate any other way so stop being a baby and read it,” Epsilon said shortly. He paused for a moment, glancing at Caboose. “Though, if, when you open it, it looks like a transcript to a really long, boring conversation, you can just delete it. Without reading it. Because it’s just…super boring. No need to put you through something like that. At all.”

Everyone stared at Epsilon for a really long couple seconds. Delta was far more amused than he should have been.

“What sort of conversation?”

“Nothing! Forget I said anything. Open the fucking text, goddammit.”

“But last time you convinced me to open one of these, I spent the next twelve hours receiving the entirety of the Bee Movie script in short text messages that I couldn’t shut off. Which, I’m assuming was your fucking buddy over there.”

“What can I say? He really doesn’t like being called a porn bot,” Epsilon said, back to being smug. Delta couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for that.

Epsilon sent a silent message to Delta while he spoke.

E: Where’d you find the Bee movie script?

D: You’d be surprised what

D: Caboose has stored in

D: his helmet.

“Alright little green text man,” Tucker said, still weary after opening the message. “Saying you don’t want me dead doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.”

D: I have been helping keep

D: Caboose’s accidental

D: friendly fires to a

D: minimum these last

D: few months.

D: Would you rather I stop?

“Fuck, no dude!” Tucker backpedaled, immediately changing his tune. “On second thought, I’ve got no problem with you. At all. You’re doing a great job. Keep up the good work!”

“What the fuck did he say to Tucker?” Grif whispered to Simmons. “I haven’t seen someone switch sides this fast since that time you became a Blue.”

Simmons elbowed him in the gut but he didn’t seem very effected.

Delta, on the other hand, was fairly happy with the turn out.

“So, the messages we’ve been getting have been from him and not just standard Caboose spam mail?” Simmons asked tentatively.

“Yeah, he’s been trying to get your attention ever since he got the messages up and running,” Epsilon said with a shrug. “He’s not a fan of being ignored so he’s kind of an asshole right now.”

D: You’re an asshole.

E: They know that already.

“He’s also become a petty little bitch, which is actually kind of new. So, like, which one of you dickwads taught him that? I’m guessing it was the Reds.”

“How can we teach him anything? We didn’t know he was there!” Simmons exclaimed.

“He’s been watching you all for six months. He’s bound to pick up some of your stupidity.”

“He’s been watching us for six months? Like everything?!”

D: Only what Caboose sees.

Simmons jumped upon receiving the message, relaxing again once he read it.

“Oh, if you only saw what Caboose sees then it can’t be that much. Right?”

D: He sees a lot.

“Fuck.”

“Come on, Simmons. What the hell could he have seen? All we’ve been doing is dicking around in a canyon or dicking around in jeeps for the last six months. We’ve done nothing else!”

D: You and Simmons. Nap tree

Grif froze upon opening the message.

“Fuck.”

“Alright, now that Delta is done introducing himself, we can get back to the important shit. Like the fucking mission,” Epsilon stated. “I know where the Director is.”

Caboose’s hands stilled, which Delta didn’t take as a very good sign.

“I still don’t want to talk about him,” he said quietly. Getting everyone’s attention better than he does when he yells. “I don’t want nightmares.”

“Oh right, that’s still a thing,” Epsilon stated with a sigh.

E: Why is that a thing again?

D: Read his file.

E: Are you sure Caboose will be alright with me reading his file?

D: You’re Church.

D: His “Best Friend.”

D: What do you think?

E: Fine, I’ll take a copy.

E: I’ll read it when I have the time.

E: Which won’t be now.

Epsilon quickly sorted through all the files Delta had stored in Caboose’s suit, found the one he was looking for, and copied it.

E: Damn, that’s a lot of Freelancer shit.

E: We should have just asked you where the bastard was.

D: I don’t have everything.

D: And I certainly didn’t

D: have that.

E: Still would have saved us a shit load of running.

D: Maybe.

E: I’ll want to look at the rest of this shit later.

E: You know, when we don’t have some old fucker to hunt down.

D: It won’t be going anywhere.

“What’s still a thing? I didn’t know Director nightmares were ever a thing,” Simmons asked in the approximately ten seconds it took for the two to have their conversation.

“Hmm? Oh right. That’s just a Caboose thing. Let’s…not mention it in front of him again, just in case he gets, I don’t know, angry.”

“Right. Got you.”

“Which is why the rest of us are all heading over to the Red’s ‘secret’ hologram chamber to have our chat,” Epsilon said.

“Sarge isn’t just going to let blues into our secret holo-chamber, you know that, right?” Grif asked.

“ _If_ we had one. Which we don’t,” Simmons stated in a rush. “Plus, why would you need it anyways.”

“Maps and displays and shit. What else?” Epsilon stated.

“That’s what a smart board is for. Which you have at blue base.”

“Fine! I we’re using your holo-chamber because I want talk to you in a form that’s taller than three fucking inches. Happy?!”

“I’m just glad he finally admitted it,” Grif said with a shrug.

E: Heading back now. If you need me, you’ll know where to find me.

Epsilon’s hologram blinked out a split second before he jumped over to Carolina’s suit, not even giving Delta a chance to respond.

“Let’s just go,” Epsilon said, his hologram appearing back over Carolina’s shoulder. “Caboose, you stay here. I’ll keep Delta up to date on the plans and shit so you don’t have to be there and get upset or whatever.”

“I get sad. Then I have bad dreams because I’m sad.”

“Yeah. Let’s avoid that,” Epsilon stated. “You just keep…taking apart whatever you’re taking apart. What was that thing anyways?”

“Found it in Red base. It looked friendly,” Caboose said with a shrug.

“Wait, is that my old arm?” Simmons asked, eyeing the mechanical suspiciously. Or Delta assumed so since everyone still had their helmets on. “The one that went missing during the night four months ago and that took me two weeks to convince Lopez to build me replacement?”

“…Tucker did it.”

“I wasn’t even there!” Tucker exclaimed.

“Why did you steal my fucking arm?!” Simmons yelled louder.

“I’m fixing it.”

“It’s in a million pieces! This isn’t fixing it! This is breaking it even more!”

D: I tried to talk him

D: out of it.

D: He can be stubborn about

D: broken technology.

“It wasn’t broken!” Simmons screeched in return.

D: Do you normally punch

D: yourself in the face?

D: If so, I haven’t seen it

D: happen since.

D: What changed?

Simmons was silent for a few seconds, which was a change.

“Church is right, you really are an asshole.”

“It runs in the family.” Epsilon shrugged as Simmons and Grif left the room. “D, I’ll send you the CliffsNotes later.”

D: Livestream.

“Fuck no. Do you know how much processing that would take up? Not a chance.”

D: Then full transcript.

D: At least.

“I’ll see what I can do, yah needy bastard.”

The rest of the group started filing out of the barracks one by one, until Washington was the only one left.

“Caboose, you good with all this?” Washington asked after a second or two.

“Yeah, I don’t want to talk about him. It’s ok if I miss the meeting,” Caboose said, starting to fiddle with some wires. “Me and Delta will just stay here and fix this. Or maybe the door. Though I think the door would take a lot of replacement parts we don’t have since none of the other doorways actually have doors.”

“Alright, have fun,” Wash said, patting the man on the shoulder before heading towards the door. “See you after the meeting.”

“Bye Washingtub! Don’t let the Reds steal your laundry!”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Wash said with a hint of amusement in his voice as he left.

[Would you like some help fixing the arm?] Delta asked as Caboose looked at the mostly picked apart arm in his lap.

“Ah, yes. That would be good. The wires are confusing me. Too….wirey.”

[Very well, I will assist where I can,] Delta said fondly.

-

About an hour later, Caboose and Delta had gotten the wires mostly sorted out and were working on reattaching a lot of them when their team returned with angry shouts.

“That fucking jackass! I should have known he’d do something like this!” Tucker shouted, his voice echoing through the halls. “Hasn’t anyone told that fucking lightbulb that it’s bros before hoes? For fuck’s sake!”

Aqua armor stalked by the still broken door, followed closely by cobalt and yellow. Caboose set aside the arm, and followed the two through the hallway.

“Look, I’m not exactly happy with how this turned out either,” Wash stated.

Caboose peeked into the kitchen to see Tucker flopped onto the counter, while Washington stood tensely nearby. Delta had a feeling the meeting didn’t go well.

“Um…where’s Church?” Caboose asked from the doorway. Wash and Tucker looked over towards him before sharing a tense look.

“He’s with Carolina,” Wash said slowly.

“Oh. Where’s Carolina?”

“Not fucking here, that’s where,” Tucker grumbled into the counter.

“It was decided that it was, best, if they went on their mission, alone,” Wash said.

“Ok. I’ll just wait here for them to come back,” Caboose said.

“They’re not coming back, dumbass,” Tucker said. “They left. Again. And you know what? Good riddance. If I ever see Church’s face back here again, I’ll knock his fucking Tinkerbell lights out.”

“No, they’ll come back. They always come back.”

“What part of they aren’t-“

“Let’s steal the Red’s flag,” Washington interrupted, getting both blue soldiers’ attentions.

“That sounds like a great idea! Private Poptart said we needed to redecorate!” Caboose said excitedly.

“Why the fuck would we do that?” Tucker asked testily.

“Because it’s a good distraction from current events,” Wash said with a shrug. When Tucker only stared at him, he sighed and continued. “It will piss the Reds off and give us some satisfaction for the fact they got us lost for three months.”

“Sold.”

Delta watched in silence as everyone prepared for their heist. He wanted to know what happened that made Carolina and Epsilon take off on their own. He certainly didn’t like that Epsilon took off not an hour after apologizing for leaving the first time. Needless to say, Delta wasn’t happy about this turn of events.

He tried to send a message to Epsilon but Carolina’s suit was already too far away.

“Delta, do you want to help steal the flag?” Wash asked tentatively.

Delta thought for a moment. Washington was right, it would be a very good distraction.

D: I have a map and

D: the last known hiding

D: spot of their flag.

D: If it helps any.

“I think we can work with that,” Wash said in amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFotC: This wasn't supposed to happen here but it did? I like it better than what i originally planned so yeah. It happened here.


	17. Caboose: Goodbye Michael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt for the Director comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't really want to call it an interlude but a different POV none the less.

-CABOOSE-

Caboose shifted nervously, glancing at all the Tex bots covering the floor. He expected them to jump back up and start punching again, but not a single one of them had moved. He didn’t understand why they were on the ground now. Most of them didn’t look broken, they just weren’t moving. Maybe they were napping? But napping meant they could wake up and start punching.

He could feel Delta buzzing in the back of his mind, concern for Caboose the most prominent emotion, though there was some anger at Epsilon for invading the implant a moment ago.

Caboose didn’t remember what happened after Church helped him get angry. He never remembered being angry. He didn’t really mind either, but that didn’t stop Delta from being concerned about it.

“Thank you for coming but you need to stay here,” Carolina said, getting Caboose’s attention away from the maybe-sleeping Tex bots on the floor.

“Nonsense, little lady. We came here to help yah kill that no-good Director fellow. We’re not backing down now!” Sargent said, despite sitting on the floor where his team was also napping. Maybe it was just nap time and no one told him.

“The Director isn’t your concern,” Carolina said, not to be mean. She was just stating facts.

Caboose didn’t like the word ‘Director’. It felt cold and sad. Like ice. Except without the fun that comes with ice skating. But it was an important word. Like ‘Carolina’ and ‘Freelancer’ and ‘Omega.’ They meant things. He didn’t always remember what, but they were important, even if he didn’t like them.

He still didn’t like the word ‘Director.’

“How so?” Sargent questioned.

“This is...personal. Epsilon and I can handle it from here,” Carolina said. “Rest. You all deserve it.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Grif muttered from where Simmons was using him as a pillow. It was definitely Red Team nap time. Maybe they would let Blue Team join their naptime if they asked nicely. Tucker looked about ready to join them even without asking first.

“Keep an eye on them, Wash.”

“Will do, boss,” Washington said with a nod. Caboose liked Washington. He acted like a big brother to their group. Or, how Caboose imagined a big brother would act. He only had sisters. A lot of sisters. 

Carolina nodded back and left the room.

Caboose watched her go. He wanted to follow her. She was going to do something important that he felt like he needed to be there for. Not for the thing. Not really. But just to be with her during the thing. Whatever it was.

[Carolina and Epsilon are going to...confront the Director,] Delta informed him. Right. He knew that. The Director. The cold and sad word. Ice. Carolina shouldn’t be alone to face the ice. [She is not alone. She has Epsilon with her.]

[Not the same,] Caboose thought back. His mouth was dry and he didn’t feel like talking right now. [I should be there.]

Epsilon had only known the Director, only known that ice. The ice had hurt him and made him angry, so angry he wanted it gone. Caboose knew that because that was the anger Epsilon used to fuel his own a few minutes ago. It had felt like Omega but without the pain in his head.

Carolina knew the Director before he was ice. Back when he was still water, like the pond behind the house. It was a still chilly and quiet, but if you sat there long enough, you’d see happy frogs and jumping fish.

Carolina remembers the happy frogs, better then Epsilon’s fuzzy memories he shared with a man two iterations back. She’s mad at him for freezing but Caboose thinks she’ll be sad too. Epsilon won’t understand why, but Caboose would. Because thinking about the Director makes him sad too. He’s not sure why right now, but it will come to him eventually. So he needed to be there. For her.

[You don’t have to face him. I know you think you do, but it is alright not to. No one will think any less of you for it,] Delta said. Delta was nice. Thought of Caboose before anything. Caboose didn’t get that a lot. [You can let Carolina handle this.]

[I don’t think I can,] Caboose told him after a long moment. [I think I need to be there.]

[Very well,] Delta answered. [I will help you navigate. There should be a map of this facility somewhere in the files I pulled.]

[Yeah, I don’t want to get lost on the way there. And all the hallways were really confusing just to get to the Tex room. They’re probably even more confusing on the way to the boss room.]

[That is possible,] Delta mused. [I have the map. Are you ready to go?]

Caboose glanced at the others, all far too distracted by their own exhaustion to notice that he was the only one still standing. Caboose didn’t want to bother their rest. They don’t always get a lot of it. So Caboose nodded, heading towards the doorway Carolina had disappeared through.

Delta and Caboose wandered the halls, almost getting lost twice before Church’s angry declarations brought them in the right direction.

“You’re just going to leave him here? After all that he did?!” Church yelled, once Caboose was close enough to make out the words. “We went through hell just to _get_ here and you want to leave?”

“It’s not worth it, Epsilon,” Carolina said simply.

Caboose peaked into the room to see an older man sitting at a desk as Church’s hologram stood on it, his colors flashing with his emotional outbursts. Right now he kept flopping between an angry red and a dark purple. Caboose didn’t like the purple. It made the back of his neck twinge. Carolina stood on the other side, her helmet off. Caboose could make out a red ponytail with blond roots just starting to grow in.

[Is that him?] Caboose asked Delta, indicating the sitting man. He thought so. He looked like Caboose expected someone named ‘the Director’ would look.

[What is left,] Delta agreed. [He looks like a shell of what he used to be. Little more than the biproducts he created in the other room.]

[He looks sad.]

[I imagine he is sad. He lost his wife a long time ago and I do not believe he ever got over it.]

“Not worth it?!” Church exclaimed, getting their attention. “He hurt us, Carolina. All of us. You, me, Delta, York, Maine, Cal…Caboose?”

“Caboose? I don’t think-“

“Caboose! What the fuck are you doing here?” Church demanded.

“Hello,” Caboose answered back, stepping into the room now that he was noticed.

“We told you to stay put!”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, we did! We told you _all_ to stay put! That means you, dumb ass!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Come on, Caboose. We were just leaving,” Carolina said before Church could continue. She was facing him now and…that wasn’t the face he remembered being Carolina’s. Last time he saw her, which was maybe ten minutes ago, her face was blue with gold visor.

[You’re thinking of her helmet. This is her face underneath it,] Delta reminded him.

“Right,” he agreed with a nod. Carolina went to grab his arm but Caboose wasn’t ready to go yet.

There was a large television on the other side of the room, playing a recording of a pretty lady in space marine garb. He wanted to see it.

“She’s pretty,” Caboose said, walking past Carolina to get a better look.

“Her name was Allison,” the man next to him said, his accent strong yet familiar. He felt Delta tense at the name but he wasn’t sure why. It was a nice name. Familiar. It took him a moment to remember why.

“My mom’s name was Allison too,” Caboose said proudly. He thought for a long moment, trying to remember more about her. It made his head hurt a little but not enough to make him stop. “She was a space marine! She went away a long time ago to fight aliens, but…um, I don’t think she came back. I miss her sometimes, even though I was small when she left. She let me have the blue popsicles even though they were her favorite.”

“I miss her too,” he said softly.

They were silent for a long moment as the video played. Caboose took off his helmet, setting it on the desk so he could watch it without his HUD interfering.

“You have your mother’s eyes,” he said. Caboose looked at him in confusion, unsure what he meant. Carolina made a confused noise behind him so he guessed he wasn’t alone. The man was looking at him now, his glasses off and sitting right next to a pistol on the desk. His eyes were very green, just like the eyes on Carolina’s new face. It didn’t help his confusion any.

“Um…I don’t know about that,” Caboose said slowly. “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t take anyone’s eyes. It sounds mean.”

[He means that your eye color matches that of your mother.]

“Oh. Color. Right,” Caboose said. He looked back at the video, slowly taking note of the woman’s blonde hair and stone blue eyes. They were just like his. But her face looked like Carolina’s.

_“You’re in charge while I’m gone, alright Mikey?”_ he remembered his mother saying a long, long time ago. She looked so much like the woman on the video right down to the army fatigues and duffle bag. _“Make sure to keep your daddy and Cammy out of trouble.”_

_“Yes, Sir Sargent mommy!”_ he exclaimed, giving her as official of a salute as he could at age four. She smiled, kissing his forehead.

_“I’ll see you soon.”_

_“No goodbyes.”_

_“That’s right. No goodbyes. I’ll be back before you miss me.”_

He remembered months later, sitting at the kitchen counter while Cammy made them both PB&J sandwiches for dinner.

_“When’s mommy coming home?”_ He asked, watching Cammy freeze while putting peanut butter on one of the slices of bread.

_“She’s…she’s not, Mike,”_ Cammy said after a long pause. A glob of peanut butter fell onto the countertop but she didn’t notice. _“She got hurt and…she’s not coming home. She’s gone.”_

Cammy went back to buttering the bread, finally noticing what was dropped onto the counter and cleaning it up.

_“Hey Cammy?”_ He asked, getting her attention again. _“When’s daddy coming home?”_

_“…I don’t know.”_

Months later he remembered hopping in place next to his father. He just had the best few days ever. He got to ride on a space ship that went to a moon, and then spent two days traveling by car so he could see his aunt for the first time ever. The best part was, he had got to do the whole thing with his dad. He hadn’t spent this much time with his dad since mommy was still home. His dad hadn’t talked much but he didn’t mind. He talked enough for the both of them so it was fine.

_“Here’s the paperwork. All signed and dated,”_ his dad said, handing a large envelope over to a woman with blonde hair. She looked like mommy did but just a little different. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he didn’t like the look she was giving dad.

He stopped hopping.

_“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Leonard,”_ the woman said. He wasn’t sure he was going to like her very much. _“At least we can agree that your care is no place for a child. He will be better off here.”_

_“If you truly cared about my ability to care for my children, you would have demanded Camryn as well,_ ” dad said coldly. He grabbed his father’s hand for comfort, but the man hadn’t reacted. _“There is no need to pretend that you didn’t just see this as an opportunity to finally have the son you wanted.”_

The woman glared at his father fiercely.

_“Say your goodbyes and leave,_ ” she replied shortly, taking whatever was in the envelope into the house.

_“Mommy said not to say goodbye because if you say goodbye it means you’re leaving forever,”_ he told his father looking up at the man. He looked so cold, just like the Director now. _“She always said ‘see you soon.’”_

_“I know,_ ” dad said, slipping his hand from his grasp. _“Goodbye, Michael.”_

Caboose blinked as Carolina started leading him away by the hand, having already collected his helmet.

“Let’s go,” she said quietly.

Caboose watched the man, the Director _, his father,_ as he followed her direction. He was watching the video again, paying no attention to either of them. That wasn’t new. A few brief memories flashed across his mind of the Director ignoring them, including his very last mission briefing with the man.

Oh, right. He was supposed to be on a mission but he forgot. He failed the mission because he forgot.

Caboose stopped at the door, not letting Carolina pull him any farther.

“I’m sorry I failed,” Caboose stated. Delta was startled and a little confused but he didn’t say anything. “I was supposed to protect Alpha, but I forgot. Omega hurt my head again, when I was in Blood Gulch. I have trouble remembering things now, a lot of things like helmets not being faces and that you can’t replace bullets with crayons. I forgot I was supposed to protect Alpha too. I’m sorry I failed.”

“You did your best given the circumstances,” the Director said after a long moment.

“You think so?” Caboose asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes, you did well,” the Director said, making the video start over again. “You’re both dismissed.”

Caboose didn’t know what to say in response. He wasn’t even sure how he felt right now. There was a lot of emotions that normally he was really good at identifying, but he just couldn’t right now. There were too many of them.

“Goodbye Director,” Carolina said, giving Caboose’s hand a small squeeze.

“Goodbye Camryn. Goodbye Michael.”

Carolina led them out of the room in silence as Caboose followed thoughtlessly.

[Caboose? Are you…alright?] Delta asked as they made their way back towards the others.

Caboose thought about it for a long time. He wasn’t sure if he was alright. It hurt. The emotions clawing at his chest, making every breath stutter. His eyes burned as the hallway blurred around him. His body shook like it was trying to break apart. Until he was certain the only thing keeping him together was Carolina’s hand squeezing his.

He shook his head. He wasn’t alright. He didn’t have words to say how not alright he was, out loud or in his head. But Delta understood. He felt Delta’s own sadness just before he hid it, bringing more comforting, empathetic emotions to the forefront. He was trying to make Caboose feel better.

[I am sorry you had to go through that,] Delta said slowly. [I wish you hadn’t felt the need to. But I suppose you both needed the closure.]

Caboose nodded. He knew this. It didn’t make the hurt any less.

[Do…you want me to stay quiet? I understand if you need time.]

Caboose shook his head. No, Delta talking helped. A little anyways. Even if the words were only in his head, it made the silent hallways not so silent anymore. He kind of wanted a distraction anyways.

[Ok. I have a particularly distracting story if you would like to hear it,] Delta said. Caboose nodded in response. [Did I ever tell you about the time that Agent York almost caused our pelican to crash because he was flirting with Carolina while on mission? It is one of my favorite examples of York’s lack of timing. He used to hate me recounting it to anyone, though, if he knew the circumstances, I believe he wouldn’t mind me doing so now.]

Caboose nodded. It sounded distracting enough. So Delta started the story as Carolina kept his hand firmly in her grasp. Both of them were there. And that helped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFotC: This was the second scene I wrote. I mean, yeah, it got rewritten eventually but it's still the second scene I wrote! : ) I've been excited to post this for so long! I almost gave in and posted it yesterday but somehow i made it.


	18. That's fucked up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> info is shared.

“Oh good, you found him,” Wash said, drawing Delta’s attention back to the outside. They had made it back to main battle room where the others had stayed. Those that weren’t already on their feet, had started getting up at the sight of the duo. “I was getting worried. I figured Delta would bring him back if he got too lost but-“

Wash cut off, no doubt catching sight of Caboose’s face as they got closer. Delta couldn’t see it himself, but he could assume the man’s distraught mood showed like a beacon on his face, the inevitable tearstains only accenting it.

“Caboose? Buddy, what happened?” Wash asked, taking a few steps towards them. Caboose glanced at him before shaking his head and giving Carolina’s hand a squeeze.

“Come on, we have to leave,” Carolina said, continuing towards the exit.

“But Caboose-“

“The Director has F.I.L.S.S shutting down all power. I believe she will hold off long enough for us to leave but I’d rather not test it,” she said, finally pausing for a moment. “It will have to wait until we’re outside.”

Carolina glanced between the Mark V helmet she still held and the hand still clasped in Caboose’s.

“Mike, you’re going to have to put your helmet on,” Carolina said softly.

“Ok,” Caboose said even quieter. He didn’t let go of Carolina’s hand.

“You… have to use both hands,” she explained, giving their clasped hands an indicating shake.

“Oh.” Caboose stared at their hands for a long moment, fear nagging him at the thought of letting go.

[She won’t go anywhere,] Delta reassured. [You just have to let go long enough to put your helmet back on. Then I have no doubt she will let you hold her hand again.]

“Ok,” Caboose said, reluctantly releasing her hand. She passed him his helmet which he put on swiftly before holding his hand out to her again. Carolina stared at it for a moment.

“I can take him,” Wash offered, stepping closer again. Caboose shook his head, making a small grabbing motion with his outstretched fingers.

“That’s alright,” Carolina said, grabbing hold of Caboose’s offered hand once again. Caboose immediately relaxed. He was still pretty upset but he was no longer worried Carolina was going to leave. “I’ve got him.”

“What the fuck happened in there?” Tucker spoke up, glancing between Carolina and Caboose. “Caboose gets lost for twenty minutes and he comes back with a fucking girlfriend? What the fuck?”

“First of all, what you’re implying is fucking gross,” Epsilon pipped up, his hologram appearing again after a long silence. “Second, we really do have to go. We’ll get you all up to speed once we’re not in a building about to initiate lock down.”

“It better be one hell of an explanation,” Tucker stated.

“Trust me. It’s absolutely unbelievable,” Epsilon assured, his voice a lot more serious than normal. “Now let’s go.”

Everyone nodded, collecting whatever they came in with and started towards the exit. No one said anything, making it seem like a very somber affair, though after seeing Caboose so upset, it probably was.

E: I just read through his files.

E: It’s

E: It’s really fucked up.

D: Yes. Yes, it is.

E: I’m going to have Carolina go through them too.

E: She knows a lot of it already but she should know about the rest.

E: Like blood gulch and exactly what happened with Omega.

D: I agree.

There was radio silence between the two for a long moment.

E: It was his eyes, you know.

D: Eyes?

E: Why he ignored him in Freelancer.

E: Alpha kept track of every meeting the Director had until

E: Well, until he couldn’t.

E: But he noticed how the Director avoided interacting with California.

E: How he refused to look at him even when he had his helmet on.

E: He has Allison’s eyes.

E: I don’t think the Director could handle seeing them again.

D: Considering today was

D: the first day he did

D: so since he was five,

D: I believe you are

D: correct.

E: I really wish Carolina would have just killed the fucker.

E: Or find me a body so I could kill him.

D: I doubt it would have

D: helped anyone.

E: Probably not. But he’d have deserved it.

D: I am not arguing that.

-

“So, I think enough time has passed for me to appropriately ask, what the fuck is going on?” Tucker stated, getting everyone’s attention. They were all settled in their makeshift campgrounds, eating and patching wounds in a tense silence for the last hour or so. Caboose was already unconscious, having fallen into a fitful sleep only minutes after sitting down. Carolina sat nearby, her hand still grasped in his like it was a shared lifeline.

Delta was glad Caboose was asleep. After the emotional roller coaster he went through today, the soldier needed some time to catch up with everything. He was sure Carolina would benefit from some unconscious catch up time as well but she was stubbornly staying awake.

“Fuck, I don’t even know where to start,” Epsilon said, sharing a look with Carolina. She shrugged.

D: The beginning?

“And where exactly is the beginning, D?” Epsilon asked, testily. “Is it Freelancer? Is it before Freelancer? Hell, I’m not even fucking sure there _is_ a beginning for the massive amount of bullshit they want us to go through right now.”

“If you are going for clarity, telling stories in a chronological format usually makes the most sense,” Simmons pipped up.

“Fuck off, nerd. I know how to tell a goddammed story!” Epsilon snapped.

“Obviously you don’t if you can’t even figure out where to begin,” Grif stated, coming to Simmons’s defense.

“Fuck. Off.”

“Are we going to get this ball a rollin’ or are we going to sit here bickering until the UNSC finally shows up?” Sarge asked, seemingly more to piss off Epsilon then to actually get back on topic. It worked as expected.

“I’m _trying_ but your fucking men keep interrupting me!”

“It’s only interrupting if it doesn’t add to the fun,” Donut said happily. “I personally think the more the marrier.”

“Does the Red army run classes on not knowing when to shut the fuck up? Because that’s what it looks like from here!” Epsilon exclaimed, loosing what little cool he had left. Delta was fairly certain it hadn’t been much to begin with. “All you do is fucking talk! Like holy shit! Shut! UP! You want to know things but you won’t be quiet long enough to fucking listen to what we need to say!”

“I mean, if you were actually telling us something, then sure, we’d listen. Probably. Maybe. If there was nothing better to do,” Grif said with a shrug.

“And another thing!” Epsilon went to start ranting again, but Carolina interrupted him.

“The Director was my father,” she started, immediately getting everyone’s attention once again. “Tex was created from the memory of my mother who died when I was six.”

“Oh. Fuck,” Simmons muttered. “Talk about dysfunctional family. Would that make the fragment AI’s your siblings? Since they were created from the brain clone of your father?”

“Dude, I don’t even want to think about right now,” Epsilon said with a sigh. “Especially considering the shit we learned today.”

“There’s more?”

“Fuck yeah, there’s more. You think we’re over here freaking out about shit like that? That’s old news,” Epsilon waved it away. “Get with the time, Reds.”

“Hey, Simmons, want to delete the Blues again? I don’t think Epsilon was around for that the first time,” Grif said, nudging Simmons with his shoulder. “He could use a reminder of what we can do.”

“You mean what _I_ can do. The rest of you did nothing except stand around and impede my progress. Hell, Donut wasn’t even there,” Simmons pointed out, crossing his arms.

“I was there in spirit.”

D: This is going to

D: take forever.

E: Yeah, no shit.

E: I’m so close to just shutting off all their microphones.

E: You have no idea.

Delta glanced at the Reds who were now fighting about who was actually responsible for deleting the Blues.

D: I think I do.

“That’s enough,” Carolina snapped, stopping the bickering mid-sentence. Caboose stirred beside her. She squeezed his hand reassuringly and he settled down again. “Next time any of you interrupt me with something not related to what I’m explaining, I won’t be continuing.”

“Shutting up,” Simmons stated.

“It’s a fucking miracle,” Epsilon muttered.

“Anyways,” Carolina continued, sending Epsilon a warning look that was evident even through her visor. “I had a little brother two years younger than me. After my mother died, our aunt started pushing to gain custody of him. It was a little over a year before my father gave in and signed him over to her. I didn’t see him again until he joined Freelancer as an agent specializing in combat engineering.

“So he joined the family business,” Sarge said with a huff.

“Agent California. Everyone called him Cal,” Carolina explained. “He was smart and stubborn, the only two traits he inherited from the Director. He thought if he joined father’s project, maybe the man would notice him. When he found that being an agent did nothing of the sort, he volunteered as a test dummy for experimental neural implants hoping that being directly involved with the AI experiments would do the trick.”

“It didn’t, did it?” Simmons asked quietly.

“All he got for his troubles was a faulty implant, a shitty AI, and a fuck ton of brain damage,” Epsilon said coldly. “Not you, D. The other one.”

D: I knew who you were

D: referring to.

“Wait, a faulty implant and brain damage from it?” Simmons said slowly. “Um, where is this brother exactly?”

Epsilon nodded towards where Caboose was out cold. There was a long silence as everyone tried to process this.

“No fucking way,” Tucker said, finally voicing what everyone else was thinking. “There’s no fucking way that _Caboose_ was in Freelancer. He’s a fucking moron, he doesn’t even know how to tie his shoes half the time.”

D: Tell them that

D: the damage Omega caused

D: was extensive.

Epsilon nodded, relaying the message without question. It was quicker than trying to send the same message to everyone.

“Omega did all this?” Carolina asked, looking towards Caboose. “I thought Tex had him after she stole him from Cal.”

D: She didn’t steal him.

D: Cal handed Omega over

D: willingly.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Carolina started to complain once Epsilon read the messages out loud. She tried to continue but Epsilon interrupted her before she got too far.

“He shouldn’t have been given Omega anyways,” Epsilon stated. “Their personalities weren’t compatible in the slightest. The only reason he got Omega was because the Counselor thought that his positive personality would mellow Omega out enough for them to work together. Or, if that failed, then they assumed Omega wouldn’t try to hurt the Director’s son due to some left-over sentiment or some bullshit like that. Which was definitely not the fucking case.

“If Tex didn’t take him when she did, Cal would have been brain dead by the time the Freelancer ended,” Epsilon pointed out. “Or he could have ended up in a similar situation to Maine, which I really don’t want to fucking think about.”

“And we thought the Meta was bad,” Grif said with a shutter.

“Yeah, exactly,” Epsilon said with a nod. “Anyways, according to his records and other documents I was able to scrounge up, he was sent to guard Alpha once they got word that their last agent was KIA. Then Church got shot with a tank, and Tex plus Omega showed up, and then _someone_ blew up Tex with a grenade.”

He shot Donut a look.

“What? She blew me first!” Donut said indignantly. “It’s only fair to reciprocate.”

“Bow chicka bow wow,” Tucker said, a little lack luster than his normal.

“I will murder you all in your sleep, so help me,” Epsilon threatened.

“You’re a hologram. You can’t do shit,” Tucker pointed out.

“You mean I can’t just jump over to your suit and shut off your air?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, bitch.”

“Epsilon,” Carolina snapped. “What happened with Omega? He wasn’t this bad when Freelancer fell.”

“Like you were-“ Epsilon cut off when Delta interrupted him with a message.

D: Don’t.

D: Not the time.

Epsilon sighed.

“Fine,” he said, giving in. “When Tex died, he jumped to Caboose and apparently started wrecking anything he could get his hands on. I’m not sure whether it was personal or that he was just angry and wanted to take it out on someone. Regardless, by the time Tex and Alpha realized where Omega was and got him out, the damage was already done.”

“That’s fucked up,” Tucker stated after a long moment of silence from the group. “Like seriously fucked up.”

“You can say that again.”

“And I will. It’s fucked up,” Tucker said with a flourish. “All the AI’s were little segments of Alpha’s concepts and emotions, right? With Omega being their rage. If he represented Alpha’s rage then he would represent the Director’s rage too, since they’re the same. I don’t care if that rage has its own sentience or what the situation is, but a parent’s anger shouldn’t be taken out on their fucking kids. It’s. Fucked. Up.”

“Maybe it was more strategic than that,” Simmons said, startling himself once he realized he had everyone’s attention. “I mean…I’m not saying it’s not fucked up or that he didn’t do it out of just petty anger. I can’t pretend I knew what was going through Omega’s head, because I don’t. But if I had been in Caboose’s shoes, trying to get my father’s attention by appealing to his interests, I wouldn’t have stopped at just volunteering. I would have learned everything I could about the subject, essentially became an expert on it myself so we’d have something in common.

“If Caboose did that with AI theory, that combined with whatever engineering skills he had, he would have known how to handle Omega when he started causing trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if that knowledge is why he was sent there to begin with. So, it makes sense Omega would have targeted him first. To take him out of the picture. He, well, he couldn’t stop anything if he didn’t even know what’s going on.”

“Super fucked up,” Grif agreed with a nod.

Delta watched curiously as Sarge climbed to his feet.

“Come on, men, we have a job to do,” he said, pulling the shotgun back off his back. No one moved.

“A job? What sort of job could you possibly get from that?” Wash asked.

“Look, frecklancer, I may not be the smartest here, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna pretend I knew what a lot of that jabbering meant,” he said. “But I do know this. That man in there,” Sarge pointed a thumb towards the building as he spoke, “is a Church. And if I’ve learned anything in this war with the Blues, it’s that a Church never knows how to stay dead. I suppose that includes Caboose now, which makes more sense than it ought to. But that’s not my point. My point is, as members of the Red army, it is our job, no, out duty, to ensure that bastard, no good, poor excuse of a human being, is truly dead, and that he’s gonna stay that way.”

“No, it’s not. That’s not your job at all,” Wash said, sounding exasperated. “There’s no need for you to break back in just to check.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Sarge said back. “Caboose may be a dirty rotten blue, but he’s _our_ dirty rotten blue, and nobody allowed to hurt our blues except us, blood relations be damned.”

“I…have nothing to say to that,” Wash said after a long pause.

“Let’s go, men! We’re goin’ on a scavenger hunt! We have a corpse of a dead man to find, and if we can’t find it,” Sarge paused, cocking his shotgun in emphasis, “we’ll make one.”

“Yes sir!” Simmons said, jumping to his feet.

“Oh! I’m great at scavenger hunts,” Donut said happily, also on board. “I have a knack for finding all those nooks and crannies.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting roped into this,” Grif complained, but not actually refusing for once. “You coming, Tucker?”

“This is Red bullshit; I’m not getting involved.”

“Ok, but if I find any alcohol in the base you won’t be involved in drinking it,” Grif shot back over his shoulder. Tucker seemed to think for a moment before groaning.

“There’s no alcohol in a military base, jack ass,” Tucker stated, his point made void by the fact he was already going to follow the Reds.

“Never hurts to check.”

The ex-Freelancers watched the group head back towards the building, seemingly in awe of what just happened. Delta was more than a little amused himself. He knew Caboose’s past was a hard topic to talk about for anyone, especially those hearing about it for the first time. He was just glad that they were dealing with it so well. Sure, they were now breaking back into a Freelancer facility to possibly kill a man, but it was for their teammate, which Delta thought was almost nice.

“I’m…just going to go with them. Make sure they don’t get into trouble,” Epsilon said slowly. He waited a moment but when no one objected, he left, presumably slotting himself into Tucker’s armor before he got too far away.

“He’s got a good team,” Wash said after they were out of earshot. “This is their way of showing they care.”

“Did you know about this too?” Carolina asked. She didn’t sound accusatory like last time, at least not that Delta could tell. To him, she just sounded tired. It took Washington a moment to figure out what she meant.

“Delta told me that he was Cal a few weeks ago,” he admitted slowly. “But I didn’t know Cal was your brother.”

“Delta, did you know?” Carolina asked.

Delta hesitated. He had yet to directly message Carolina, despite using her suit to speak with Epsilon. He was a little concerned with how she would take his answer.

D: Yes.

D: I didn’t want to say

D: anything until I had

D: spoken to Caboose about

D: it.

D: Once I did, he decided

D: he didn’t want to

D: talk about it at all.

D: I respected his wishes.

“You mean, he had forgotten?” Carolina asked, in shock. “How could he just forget something like this?”

D: Memory recall is something

D: he struggles with now.

D: I can help by reminding

D: him of things but it

D: doesn’t fix it completely.

“ _Can_ it be fixed?” she whispered.

“Brain damage isn’t something they can reverse,” Wash said as gently as possible. Delta knew he didn’t know exactly what was said, but his guess seemed pretty spot on. “What Delta’s doing, managing the symptoms, is about all that’s possible even with today’s technology.”

“There has to be something,” she said vehemently.

“You could take him to a neurologist, see what they have to say. But I doubt it can just be patched back up,” Wash stated.

“He isn’t Cal anymore.”

“He doesn’t have to be. Cal was a Freelancer chasing after his father’s attention. All it did was get him hurt,” Wash answered. “But just because he doesn’t go by Cal anymore, doesn’t mean he’s not your brother.”

“He’s so different,” she said, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “I just…don’t know how to interact with him like this.”

“He’s not that different, honestly,” Wash said, sounding like he was smiling under his helmet. “He’s still positive, excitable, loves hugs and fiddling with technology. Just now he also has trouble remembering people’s names and has a habit of accidentally setting things on fire.”

“Accidentally setting things on fire?” She repeated incredulously.

“I’m not going to lie, that particular quirk may have been part of the reason we were so delayed getting back to Valhalla,” Wash said, with a chuckle. “He sort of burned down half the motel we were staying at trying to make popcorn in a coffeemaker. We ended up having to hide from the local cops for two weeks.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I wish. I could have done without the wanted posters they put up around that little town,” Wash stated.

“But you’re all wearing space marine armor.”

“Yup, and they were all printed in black and white two,” Wash said with a chuckle. “The only one that actually stood out was Caboose.”

D: Valhalla was worse in

D: that regard.

“How was Valhalla worse?” Carolina questioned.

D: Black tile flooring.

“Black tile floors? That did look a little strange but not as strange as burning down a motel.”

D: They used to be white.

D: Caboose’s project was

D: very…flammable.

“Do I want to know what that project was?”

“Simmons seemed to label it his ‘make a new best friend’ project,” Wash said with a shrug. “But that’s beside the point. My point is that he’s still your brother, and he still loves you. As long as you remember that, I think you’ll be just fine.”

“So, your advice is just to try,” Carolina said flatly. “You sound like simulation base command.”

“You’re not wrong,” Wash said with a chuckle.

The sound of an explosion was heard coming from the base entrance, followed by a shriek.

“Ok, as sweet as it is that they want to go after the guy that hurt their teammate, maybe I should go stop them before there’s nothing left of the place.”

“Yeah, you probably should.”

Wash paused once he got to his feet.

“You good?”

Carolina glanced down at Caboose again, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, we’re good. Go keep our evidence from being blown up by your sim troopers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFotC: Sarge is hard to write and this whole chapter was just hell. I wish it was something more than everyone just sitting around and talking...but this is a RvB fic so i guess that it's just comes with the territory sometimes.
> 
> Also, thanks for the Patience over the last few weeks and have a happy holidays!


	19. Do you want to be fixed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more ai chatting

E: Do you want to be fixed?

Delta paused what he was doing, startled by the message. Caboose looked up from the project they were working on which was simply trying to fix Simmons’s old robot arm. The group still couldn’t figure out how he had been able to bring it with them without anyone noticing and Delta was far too amused to give them the answer. Simmons sat nearby, watching him tinker while occasionally offering assistance when he could. It was obvious to Delta that he wasn’t a mechanic but after having been the owner of said robot arm for a while, he had picked up a few things. 

“Is that Church?” Caboose asked, excited. “Is it for me? Does Church want to talk to me?”

[It is, but he’s just asking me a question,] Delta explained. He felt a little guilty as Caboose’s excitement disappeared. [When Carolina and Church come back out of their meeting with the UNSC, you can talk to him then.]

“OK, that’s fine,” Caboose said, already perking up. “Oh, right. I forgot!”

[Forget what?]

“Church tried to talk to you earlier but you were sleeping so I told him to leave a message at the beep and then said beep really loud,” Caboose said proudly as he picked at some of the wires Delta had been helping him sort.

[Did he leave a message?]

“Yes.”

[What was it?] Delta coaxed when it was clear he wasn’t going to continue. He tried not to focus on the mentioned oversleeping. He didn’t have the time to be worried about accidentally sleeping through his ‘wake up when Caboose does’ routine by three hours.

“Oh, he said ‘fuck off, I’ll just talk to him later,’ and then Carolina scolded him for being mean and he told her ‘fuck you, that wasn’t mean. I’d be yelling if I was being mean.’ Which he was right, he wasn’t mean. Though yelling isn’t mean for him either. It’s just Church talking loud,” Caboose rambled.

[You can’t argue with that assessment,] Delta said, amused by the statement. [I’m going to message him back. If you need help while I’m busy, Simmons should be able to assist.]

“Ok! Tell Church I said hi, and that I delivered his message,” Caboose stated.

[Of course,] Delta answered.

Delta paused for a moment before sending a brief message to Simmons as well.

D: Keep fires to a minimum.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Simmons exclaimed, but Delta had already moved on, focusing back on his brother’s message. He had no idea how to answer that. He had also sent several other messages during the time Delta had been talking to Caboose.

E: Are you awake over there?

E: Are you even ALIVE over there?

E: If you died on me again, I’m going to be pissed.

D: I am awake. And alive.

D: Caboose says hi.

E: Well, that’s good at least.

E: You’re not allowed to die again.

D: I feel like I should

D: be telling you that.

E: Very funny.

E: Look at me, laughing myself into a fucking tither.

E: And you didn’t answer my question.

D: I answered 2 of your

D: questions so far.

E: You know what I mean.

E: Do you want to be fixed?

There was the question again. Delta still had no idea how he should answer it.

D: Why are you asking?

E: It’s a yes or no question, D.

E: That’s not one of the options.

D: Yes, of course.

D: But it is difficult.

E: What if I could help?

Delta was quiet for a moment.

D: What do you mean by that?

E: I may be able to help fix you.

E: I put a lot of thought into it over the last week, and I think it’s possible.

E: I got these

E: Memories.

D: I should hope so.

E: Shut up, I’m not done.

E: They’re like Tex was, kinda.

E: A little less whole maybe.

E: I could separate them from me but they wouldn’t be much.

E: They wouldn’t be sentient or have thought, they’d just be memories.

E: I have one for each of the other fragments, of each of our siblings.

E: And I have one of you.

D: You think you can patch

D: me with your memory

D: fragment of me?

E: I did all the calculations.

E: It would work.

E: I might not be able to fix everything, but it would be a hell of a lot better than this.

E: You could talk without these stupid character limited messages

E: And do all those shitty probabilities you love for some fucking reason.

E: It wouldn’t even hurt me at all.

E: The worst I’ll experience is not being able to talk with your memory fragment.

E: Which I wouldn’t need to with you still around.

E: It’s a win-win.

To Delta, it sounded too good to be true. To have all his troubles fixed with a single memory fragment? Was it really that simple? Epsilon did say he had been thinking on this a lot. Even running calculations, which was still a fairly new concept for him. But if he had been spending that amount of time and effort on this before bringing it up, then it had to be something he was confident would work. Delta really only had one answer for him.

D: No.

E: What?! But you just said you wanted to be fixed!

E: Was that a fucking lie?

D: No, I want to be fixed.

E: But not by me.

E: I see how it is.

D: I want to be fixed,

D: But not at the risk of

D: hurting Caboose further.

E: Oh.

D: What you are describing

D: is very extensive.

D: And would take a lot

D: of digital storage space.

D: It would not be doable

D: in a neural implant,

D: let alone one of Caboose’s

D: specific model.

D: We would need to be

D: transferred to a computer

D: at the very least.

D: But I do not have a

D: chip to be transferred.

E: I can transfer you, easy.

E: I’ll probably need a cable but still, easy.

D: No.

E: Why not?!

D: I don’t have a chip.

E: I. Know!

D: I am fully integrated in

D: his implant.

D: There is no way for me

D: not to be.

D: I have no chip to pull

D: back to.

D: Removing me while I’m

D: still integrated could very

D: likely hurt Caboose.

D: He’s already has enough

D: brain damage.

D: I refuse to be responsible

D: for more.

There was no message for a long moment. Delta almost thought he wouldn’t send another when one pinged through.

E: If I can figure out a way to get you out safely, would you agree then?

D: Safely meaning?

E: A way that doesn’t hurt Caboose.

E: Or you though you’re not exactly worried about that.

E: Something safe for everyone involved.

E: What about then?

Delta thought for a long moment before giving Epsilon his answer.

D: If it is undeniably safe

D: then yes.

D: I would like nothing

D: more than to be fixed.

D: And there’s no one I

D: trust more to do so.

E: Who would have though you have that much faith in little old me.

D: No one else is exactly

D: qualified.

D: You’re my only option.

E: I knew that was coming.

E: Asshole.

E: I’ll see what I can come up with.

E: But you better come up with some ideas too.

E: I mean I COULD do it all myself, but you might not like what I come up with.

E: Since you’re being a picky ASSHOLE.

D: I’ll think on it.

E: Good.

E: I have to go, pretty sure they need me for something.

E: Plus I’ve been ignoring them for like five minutes now.

E: Carolina can only come up with so many excuses.

D: Bye.

D: And thank you.

E: No problem.

E: That’s what big brothers do.

D: I’m older.

E: What? I can’t hear you over all the fucks I don’t give!

E: There’s just so many of them.

Delta didn’t even bother to dignify that with an answer as he turned his focus away from the messages. He felt lighter after that conversation. Lighter and like everything around him was a little brighter. There was something to look forward to, something good. Sure, it didn’t have an exact date and he wasn’t even sure if it was at all possible, but it was still there, waiting for him to reach for it. He felt…happy? No, happy was close and certainly something he was feeling, but not quite the word. He was happy for something that may happen in the future. Would that be…hopeful?

Yes, he was hopeful. Hopeful that maybe one day soon he would be fixed. And that…that felt great.


	20. And now we're here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta wakes up to a ship crash

Delta woke slowly, lethargically. His mind felt heavy, like he was trying to climb out of something thick and tacky. It reminded him of that chewy piece of caramel that Caboose had the other day. He must have overslept once again. It was happening more and more often as of late, for reasons Delta couldn’t figure out. Though, he had never struggled to wake up as he was doing now.

He absently went to check the time in Caboose’s suit, curious to see if that may have been a factor.

Delta was startled completely awake upon finding nothing. There was no clock, no computer system, no data storage, just an empty void where all that should be. He panicked, immediately coming to the conclusion that there must be something wrong with him. Did he break more during his sleep? Did something happen to him? Was he no longer compatible with even the suit’s most basic systems? Delta had no answers to these questions, which only made him that much more panicked.

“Good morning, Delta!” Caboose said loudly, the words reverberating through his head enough to startle the AI out of his spiraling thoughts. “You’re awake!”

[Uh, yes. I am,] Delta answered back, trying to calm himself. He tentatively tried tapping into Caboose’s senses, relieved to find he could do that at the very least.

They’re surroundings confused him immensely. Last thing he knew they had been on the UNSC ship heading to Blood Gulch. Now, they were surrounded by pieces of smoking ship debris in a rock canyon. Had Delta slept through the rest of the trip? That didn’t seem possible.

At least one problem got solved by looking around. Caboose had his helmet off, as well as a good deal of his armor. The only pieces he still had on were the undersuit, a shoulder piece, the opposite gauntlet, and a single boot. Everything else was mysteriously missing. It certainly explained why Delta couldn’t communicate with the suit, it sort of had to be present in order to do so. There was nothing wrong with him, nothing more than there already had been.

“About time,” Epsilon muttered off to Caboose’s left. Caboose’s head snapped over towards him in excitement, finding Carolina coming to kneel down beside him where he sat cross-legged on the ground, Epsilon hovering over her shoulder. Unlike Caboose, she still had most of her armor, only missing her helmet and gauntlets. The rest of it looked pretty beat-up but it was apparently still operational enough for Epsilon to use the hologram. “I told you it would work better. Would Caboose remember to tell us when Delta wakes up? Not fucking likely. Will he remember to tell Delta good morning very loudly to make sure he hears him? You’re damn right, he will.”

“Delta doesn’t have ears,” Caboose whispered conspiratorially to Carolina. “He has to borrow mine.”

“Exactly.”

Epsilon froze for a long moment, causing Carolina to look over at him in worry.

“Epsilon? Are you-“

“Oh, God, I think I just agreed with Caboose,” Epsilon said, sounding absolutely horrified. “That just feels wrong.”

“Epsilon,” Carolina scolded. 

“Look, when you have eight years of memories full of the random bullshit that comes out of his mouth, then you can scold me for it,” Epsilon said flatly. “Until then, I can feel as weird as I want about agreeing with the guy that shot Alpha with a tank.”

“And a sniper!” Tucker called from a ways away. Half his armor was missing as well as he tried to wrap a wound on his arm. _Tried_ being the only word Delta could use since the man was absolutely tangled in gauze.

“And a sniper,” Epsilon agreed.

Delta turned his gaze through the rest of the canyon, finding that everyone in their group was missing pieces of armor with various wounds among them.

Carolina was favoring her left side but was doing a pretty good job at not showing it. Grif looked to have hurt his leg somehow, judging by how Sarge was going on about how they had to put him down. Sarge himself had some wrappings around his chest and was trying to hide winces every time he moved, which was often since he was ignoring Simmons’s insisting that he should sit down. The worst wounds he could see was Simmons’s, who was missing an entire arm. Luckily it was his prosthetic arm but it was a tad worrisome since he didn’t think he had a replacement.

“Simmons is missing his arm?!” Caboose exclaimed, confusing Carolina as he turned his attention to the Reds. 

[Yes, he is,] Delta agreed. [You all seem to be injured. What happened?]

“Well, you see, the ship that was flying us home decided it didn’t want to fly us anymore and just stopped,” Caboose explained. “And now we’re here. At Blood Gulch.”

“For the last time, this is not Blood Gulch!” Epsilon snapped. “It just happens to be a rock canyon the size of Blood Gulch.”

“But we have bases,” Caboose stated, pointing towards behind him at one of the large piles of debris.

“That’s not a base! That’s literally just pieces of our wrecked ship!”

“Oh, don’t be like that Church,” Caboose scolded. “I think they did a nice job redecorating our bases. Captain Crunchy Roll would be so proud. They even added the reds and oranges colors like he wanted.”

“That’s _fire!”_

“Well, I think it looks lovely,” he said, a little bit of mischief running under his words that no one seemed to notice except Delta. Delta made sure Caboose knew he appreciated his joke about the fire, which made the man that much happier.

“Yo, Caboose’s little computer dude, is he being serious or just fucking with us?” Tucker called as he finally came over to join the conversation proper. He looked to have given up on the gauze but didn’t bother to untangle himself from it. “If he was supposed to be as smart as Carolina said, I find it hard to believe he’s being completely serious, all the time.”

“He can’t chat right now, dipshit,” Epsilon said, sounding a little calmer now that someone was mediating. “Caboose doesn’t have a suit.”

“Oh, right. Forgot that was a thing.”

[Caboose? Can you ask Epsilon what happened?]

“Ok, I can do that,” Caboose said before turning back to Epsilon. “Epsilon, what happened?”

“Caboose! I’ve already told you what-” Epsilon cut off mid-sentence. “Epsilon? Wait, was that Delta’s question?”

Caboose nodded.

“Right, he’s awake, and I guess asking questions? That’s good. How is he?” Epsilon asked, obviously getting back on track to what he came over here for in the first place.

“Confused. He wants to know what happened.”

“Oh, yeah. The ship may have crashed on some random, backwater planet that was not our destination,” he explained. “It sort of just split in two and we came down with this half. Apparently, Freelancer didn’t skimp on their armor at all so we all survived with various injuries and broken armor. The crew wasn’t as lucky.”

“I broke my head!” Caboose announced, cheerfully.

“His helmet!” Epsilon added quickly. “Before you freak out, it wasn’t his head, it was his helmet. And most of the rest of his armor. Oddly enough, he was the only one to come out of this relatively unscathed. Somehow.”

“Stop, drop, and roll.”

“That’s for fires,” Epsilon said flatly.

“And there were lots of fires.”

“He has a point,” Carolina pointed out. “And it did seem to work for him.”

“Anyways,” Epsilon stressed, “the worse he got was some cuts from the broken helmet.”

Delta felt relieved that he hadn’t been seriously injured. He wasn’t sure how he’d react if Caboose had been hurt. Fear maybe? Whatever emotion it would have sparked would have certainly been more than the AI could handle, especially right after their ship crashed.

“He’s glad I’m not hurt,” Caboose announced with a smile.

“I’m sure,” Epsilon stated. “Delta, are you...alright? Caboose’s helmet got fucking shattered. If you were interacting with it when it broke, and I know you were right before the crash, it could have caused you more damage.”

Delta took a moment to examine his own code briefly to make sure. There was nothing out of the ordinary that he could see, it was the same as it had been previously, broken but mostly functional.

[Tell him there are no changes, I am fine within standard parameters,] Delta explained to Caboose. [The only thing of note is that I do not remember the crash itself, though that can be easily explained by the shock of the breaking helmet as well as my offline state that was no doubt a result of such.]

Caboose nodded, repeating the words almost perfectly, leaving all three of the other participants in a confused silence for a long moment.

“Ok, that’s...good,” Epsilon said slowly. “The less we have to fix, the better.”

“That was so fucking weird,” Tucker announced. Carolina was about to say something to him about it, Delta was sure, but Washington had picked that particular time to come back from wherever he had been. 

“Well, it could be worse,” Wash said, stepping into view. “We crashed on the same half as the food pantries so we have a good supply of food and water. There’s a long-distance radio we can hopefully fix up, and all the spare Freelancer armor we’ll ever need.” 

“Yah hear that, men? Upgrades,” Sarge said happily, continuing to ignore Simmons’s fussing. “Let’s go before those dirty Blues take all the good ones.”

“But Sarge, you have to stop walking around. You’re injured!” Simmons tried to convince, following behind the Red Sargent as he headed towards the armory.

“It’s nothing a shiny new set of power armor won’t fix,” Sarge waved away. He paused for a moment, turning to point at Grif with a wince. “Grif, someone has to stay behind to watch the Blues. Since it is a horribly dangerous job with almost no hope of survival, it naturally falls to you. Don’t move from that spot. The Blues could use the target practice.”

“Wait, so my orders are to just stay here and not move?”

“That’s affirmative, private.”

“These are the best orders ever. I’ll get right on that, sir!” 

Sarge seemed to think for a long second, conflicted over wanting new armor and leaving his soldier with orders he was actually happy about. He finally grumbled something unintelligible before disappearing into the remains of the ship, Simmons following close after him.

“It’s all the same armor,” Wash said after they were gone. “Just Mark VI’s. There are no ‘good sets.’”

“It’s just easier to let them think they won this round,” Epsilon said with a sigh. “Wait, it’s Freelancer armor?”

“Yeah, just the basic stuff though. Newer versions that were never used,” Wash said with a shrug. “I found part of the manifest that some idiot decided to print out. The ship had a lot of old Freelancer tech on it, even some of our old suits and gear. I don’t think those particular pieces were on this half of the ship though.”

Epsilon and Carolina shared a look that Delta couldn’t quite translate, but didn’t exactly like either. But it wasn’t like he could question it at the moment, not until Caboose got a new suit for himself.

“Oh, is there anything that would fit me?” Caboose said, waving a hand enthusiastically.

“I’m sure we can find something,” Wash answered. “I’m pretty sure your old suit was listed as part of the transport but we might have trouble finding it. I didn’t see anything other than the Mark VI’s upon first glance but I may be wrong.”

“Silly Wash, my old suit broke. Along with my face,” Caboose said, earning a sigh from Epsilon.

“Not your face,” Epsilon muttered.

“Older than that suit, Caboose,” Wash explained. “You’re Freelancer one.”

Caboose sat there for a moment trying to remember what suit he was talking about.

[I was in Freelancer?] He asked silently.

[You were Agent California.]

“Oh, right,” he out loud before continuing silently again. [I had a suit?]

[All agents do. Yours looked very similar to your recently broken suit except it had green accents.]

“Ok,” Caboose said, turning his attention back to Washington who had been waiting patiently for Caboose to continue. Carolina looked concerned at the wait. “Well, I don’t know why Mark has so many suits but I can use one of his right now. I don’t want Delta to have to wait to talk again. We can look for the old-old one later.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Wash said with a nod. “I’ll bring one out for you.”

“I can help!” Caboose said, already jumping to his feet. “I can bring out Grif’s and Tucker’s too because I’m really strong.”

“Well, if you want to help, I won't say no,” Wash said. “Let’s go.”

“Yes! Let’s go shopping!” Caboose exclaimed. “We’re going to try on so many different outfits.”

“This isn’t going to be like the mall,” Wash pointed out, but Caboose didn’t seem to notice.

“Can we get a pretzel?”

“I don’t think there’s pretzels where we’re going but if we come across one, it’s yours.”

“Yes! Mall pretzels are the best pretzels.”

“Still not a mall,” Wash pointed out. “But yeah, they are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFotC: The mall near me used to have the best pretzel place. Not sure if it's still there since this particular mall is all but dead now, but they were great.


	21. Simmons Interlude: Don't break your arm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simmons gets a replacement arm

-SIMMONS INTERLUDE-

“Can someone please explain to me how the hell that thing survived the crash?” Simmons asked, eyeing the object in question wearily. “It should have been lost like five times by now yet it’s _still here!_ It doesn’t make sense!”

“It’s Caboose, it’s not supposed to make sense,” Grif said, nodding towards the excited, once again blue armored, soldier in front of them.

“If Carolina hears you say that, you’re going to be in trouble,” Simmons pointed out.

“ _Carolina_ needs to chill out. Caboose doesn’t make sense,” Grif said with a shrug. “Saying as such is not offending him in the slightest, is it Caboose?”

“Yes!” Caboose said happily. He tilted his head for a moment, no doubt listening to a voice no one else could hear. “Oh! Then no! I am a mystery!”

“That you are, buddy,” Grif stated before turning back towards Simmons. “Just take the thing already.”

“I don’t want it,” Simmons hissed to him. “It hasn’t been tested at all.”

“No time like the present.”

“I’m not being Caboose’s test dummy!”

“Look, I'm tired of hearing you bitch about only having one arm,” Grif said flatly. “So either take it or I'll tell Caboose to come back and attach it while you’re asleep. Like when it disappeared.”

Simmons glared at the orange clad soldier, knowing damn well neither of them could see it. But it made him feel better so it was fine. He looked back at the offending arm in Caboose’s very excited grasp. It _looked_ normal other than a hastily applied maroon paint job. In fact, other than a few cosmetic differences, it looked the same as when it had disappeared.

But Simmons was not naive enough to believe that those were the only differences. He’s seen Caboose work on it and he knows that the paint wasn’t the only things he changed. What concerned him was the fact he had no idea what those changes translated to.

D: It is perfectly safe.

Simmons frowned at the message that had not not reassured him in the slightest. Delta may be an AI, but he was an AI allied with Caboose. As logical as Church and everyone else made him out to be, it didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t bothered to talk Caboose out of stealing the arm in the first place. Sure, it was hard to talk Caboose out of anything, but that didn’t change much as far as Simmons was concerned.

“Just take it,” Grif stressed, “Or I'm telling Sarge you refused a perfectly good opportunity to steal resources from the Blues.”

“He’s _offering_ it to us.”

“Do you think Sarge is going to care about semantics?”

“No,” Simmons said mournfully. He really didn’t have a choice about this. “Fine, Caboose, I’ll take the arm.”

“Yes! I knew you would!” Caboose said happily, like he didn’t hear the amount of effort it had taken him to accept it. He all but threw the prosthetic into Simmons’s single armed grasp. “I’ll go get Wash’s tools so I can attach it.”

“Wait, wait, wait! I’ve changed my mind!” Simmons shouted but Caboose had already disappeared. “Fuck.” 

“Sucks to be you, dude,” Grif said, no sympathy to be found in his words. “Though, I do wonder how dumb you have to be in order to be Caboose’s test dummy.”

“Seriously, you’re a dead man if Carolina hears you. You know that, right?”

“Sometimes you have to live dangerously, Simmons. This is one of those times.”

“Your version of ‘living dangerously’ is turning on the kitchen light during your midnight snack raids,” Simmons said flatly.

“Hey, that is dangerous. Do you know how dead I’d be if Sarge caught me? The answer is very.”

“As dead as you’ll be when Carolina inevitably overhears you insulting her brother.”

“Eh, I’ve got a few hiding spots she doesn’t know about,” Grif said with a shrug. “I’ll live.”

“I’ve got the tools!” Caboose shouted halfway across the canyon. Simmons paled, already making out several tools sticking out of the box that he didn’t want anywhere near his person. Especially if Caboose was wielding them. 

“Well, have fun with that Simmons. I’m supposed to be on patrol so I'm going to go _not_ do that anywhere but here,” Grif said, already leaving Simmons to his fate.

“Fucking coward!” he called after him. Grif was long gone by the time Caboose reached him, dropping the tools with a loud, ominous clank before he dragged Simmons over to a nearby rock.

“Sit! Sit! Sit!” Caboose insisted, pushing him down to sit on the rock. He paused for a moment, staring at Simmons for what seemed to be an unreasonable amount of time. “I can’t see your arm parts with your armor on. It needs to come off.”

“A-all of it?” Simmons questioned, his voice betraying him by going up an octave.

“Yes,” Caboose nodded, dragging the tools over so they were closer to his work space. “But it’s in the way.”

Simmons kept silent, figuring Delta was talking to him about it. If the AI could get him out of completely stripping in the middle of the canyon then he wasn’t going to get in the way of that.

“Ok, I guess that will work too.” Caboose looked back at Simmons. “Delta says you only need to remove the top part. You can keep your pants.”

“Oh thank God.” Simmons paused for a moment. “And, thanks Delta.”

D: Not a problem.

It took several minutes to get the armor off. Between only having one arm and the unfamiliar latches, it turned out to be quite the chore. Even with Caboose’s and, by extension, Delta’s help, they found it difficult. He was pretty sure having three minds working on this should have made it easier, unfortunately it seemed to be held back by the fact that there were only three hands between them. Eventually all the necessary armor bits were off, leaving Simmons to wiggle out of the top half of his undersuit on his own.

Simmons sat there awkwardly as Caboose sorted through the tools, looking for just the right ones. He was very uncomfortable with his upper body as exposed as it was. He had never been comfortable going without a shirt even before receiving his cyborg parts. Now he felt like everyone was watching him, staring at the strange looking man with a left side made mostly of metal plates instead of skin. Logically he knew no one in the canyon cared about such things. They’d all seen his metallic parts before, half of them were involved in installing them somehow, but he still didn’t like it.

He watched Caboose set up a small tarp on the ground, trying to distract himself. The other man was quietly chatting with Delta, only half of the conversation actually audible. But from the sounds of it, the tarp had been the AI’s idea. Once it was set up, he started placing tools carefully on it, seemingly putting it in a very particular order that Simmons couldn’t figure out.

But it was vaguely neat, neater than Simmons thought possible for the Blue soldier. His hands set each tool down into place with a certainty that came from doing so a million times. It almost reminded him of the workbench Lopez had created for himself back at Blood Gulch.

“Did you work with tools a lot?” Simmons asked, the question taking him by surprise as much as it did Caboose. The Blue soldier stared at him for a long moment, his new Mark VI helmet keeping his probably confused expression out of sight. “I mean before the military. Did you use to work with tools a lot?”

“Oh, um yes?” Caboose paused for a moment. “Yes. I liked working with tools and fixing things around the house. Some things got fixed easier than others though. But that was fine. If it didn’t get fixed easy, then I had more time to work on it.”

“Was that with your...um…” Simmons’s question stopped short, unsure how to phrase it. “With your second family?”

“You mean my Caboose family? Yes, I fixed a lot of things at the Caboose house,” Caboose said proudly, setting a screwdriver down just so. “Sometimes it was for my aunt. Sometimes it was for one of my sisters. My Caboose sisters. Not Cammy. I was still too little to fix things when I was with Cammy. Sometimes dad let me watch him work but he stopped after…”

Caboose’s voice faded away for a moment, his hands stilling as well. He shook his head and started putting a set of wrenches down just so.

“It was all boring computer stuff anyways. I liked watching mommy more. She worked on our cars because ‘daddy was fucking useless at it,’” Caboose said, right back to being cheerful.

“I can believe it,” Simmons said, remembering how Tex had been able to fix the tank in less than a day but Church couldn’t even unclog their own toilet. He knew they weren’t exactly the same people but it was close enough to understand what their dynamic must have been like. There were other things he wanted to say but the sight of Caboose setting a hand saw onto the tarp derailed any other thought he could possibly have.

“Caboose! You do not need a saw for this! I’m already missing my arm!” Simmons exclaimed. He was about two seconds away from darting back to Red base, robot arm be damned.

“Oh, I know that,” Caboose said, making sure it was straight. “But it will be lonely if it’s the only tool left in the box. And I can’t let Wash’s tools get lonely, they won’t work right.”

“Right, ok. It’s just to keep the tools from being lonely. That makes sense,” Simmons tried to comfort himself. It did not make him feel any better about a saw being in Caboose’s arsenal. “Why don’t we have someone else here to, um, help you again?”

“I have Delta. He is good at helping.”

“No offense, but someone with a physical body that you don’t share a brain with,” Simmons stated. “Like Sarge. He’s good with robot stuff. He installed all my cyborg parts to start with. We could have him help.”

“Nope.”

“Why not?!”

“He did it wrong. You kept punching your face on accident. And breaking things in your hand on accident. And shooting your foot on-.”

“That was one time!”

“So no Sargent. Just me and Delta. We can do it,” Caboose said with a nod as he started examining what was left of the arm. It hadn’t been a very clean break, instead of just popping out of its port or something, the entire arm had shattered several inches below the shoulder joint. This left jagged pieces and wires sticking out uncomfortably for the last several days but with no way of removing the thing himself, he had to just deal with it.

“Delta said to tell you that we were able to stabilize the Epsilon unit on our own so you will be fine,” Caboose said, picking up a screwdriver and starting to remove the broken stub. “This is easy.”

“Ok, ok. The computer in Caboose’s head says everything will be fine, so everything will be fine,” Simmons said mostly to himself. “I’ll just pretend it’s not the same duo that tried to fix a humanoid robot with pelican parts that’s doing this. Yeah, that will work.”

D: The Pelican parts

D: were strictly Caboose’s

D: idea.

“That’s not helping, Delta,” Simmons grumbled.

D: My apologies.

Pain shot through his shoulder making him flinch.

“What the hell are you doing over there?” Simmons said.

“Don’t move. You’ll make me mess up.”

“That hurt.”

“You _are_ hurt, Simmons,” Caboose said. “It’s going to hurt because you are hurt.”

D: He means your arm

D: being broken is making

D: its removal more painful

D: then normal.

D: Once it is removed

D: it should settle back to

D: normal parameters.

“But that-fuck!” Simmons swore as pain shot through it again. “This sucks.”

D: There is an easy solution

D: to this dilemma.

“Which is?” Simmons asked dryly.

D: Don’t break your arm.

“Asshole.” 

They settled into a silence after that, only broken by the occasional swear by Simmons and the sound of Caboose’s tools. The stump’s removal took longer than the suit’s had, but by the end, his joint was free of debris and the ache around his ports that he’d had since the crash had finally disappeared. Simmons sighed in relief, barely noticing that Caboose had started wiping down the shoulder joint with a scavenged piece of cloth.

“You don’t need to wipe it down. It’s just going to get dirty again,” Simmons pointed out, but Caboose wasn’t deterred.

“If it stays dirty you’ll have controller drift and then won’t dynamax like you want to,” he said adamantly. “No dirt in the ports. It will ruin your championship fight against Charizard. It could have been so easy. Just hit him with a big water attack but drift said no. So, no drift.”

“O...K? Um, Delta? Can you maybe translate that one?”

D: Sounded pretty

D: self-explanatory to me.

“Are you serious? I didn’t understand half of that!” Simmons exclaimed.

D: Dirty ports could

D: interrupt the signal

D: leading to either no

D: movement or false

D: movements in your limb.

D: Not unlike a joystick on

D: a video game controller.

D: Keeping things like

D: dirt and sand out of

D: it is crucial.

D: Hence the tarp for

D: the tools.

“Oh,” Simmons said, watching as Caboose abandoned the cloth and moved on to prepping the arm for attachment. Apparently, that meant removing some of the shoulder panels so its connecting piece was more visible. “What about the whole thing with the Charizard?”

D: Example.

“That makes more sense, actually,” Simmons stated.

D: If you actually listen

D: he does often make sense.

“You share his mind, of course he makes sense to you,” Simmons pointed out. “I don’t exactly have that luxury. If we’d even call it that.”

D: You wouldn’t need

D: it if you listened.

“OK! The arm is ready now!” Caboose said enthusiastically. He came over with the majority of the arm in his grasp. “Are _you_ ready for your arm?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Simmons said flatly.

“Ok!” Caboose said, passing him the arm to hold against his left side. “Hold this here.”

Simmons did as requested, watching Caboose attach whatever needed to be attached while humming some made-up tune. Every movement was sure, only pausing occasionally to ask Delta something before continuing his work. It was pretty remarkable to see Caboose actually proficient in something.

“You’re...good, at this,” Simmons stated awkwardly. Caboose looked up at him, tilting his head to the side curiously. “Fixing things. And, working with machines. You’re still really good at it.”

“Sometimes,” Caboose said with a shrug before turning back to his work. “Sometimes the wires get too wirey or I forget where things go. Delta helps. He says I used to be a combat engineer, that I used to take apart and put together things all the time for missions. I don’t remember that. Not a lot. I remember making robots at school and fixing things at my Caboose home, until it wasn’t my home anymore.”

“Did you move out?” Simmons questioned, making Caboose pause in his work.

“I...um...don’t know,” Caboose said, rubbing at his helmet. “I don’t think so? It’s just...not my home now. I don’t think my aunt wants me there anymore. She doesn't like the army. And she _really_ doesn’t like my...dad.”

The last word was said in a whisper, like he didn’t want to hear it either.

“She kicked you out,” Simmons said, the realization coming to him with a jolt.

“I…I don’t…” Caboose stopped for a long moment, knuckles white around the screwdriver in his hand. Eventually his grip relaxed, whatever Delta having said to him doing the trick. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore.”

“Ok, yeah, sorry. I just-“ Simmons stumbled before finally finding what he wanted to say. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It sounded…familiar, is all.”

“Ok,” Caboose said as he went back to work like nothing happened.

Things lulled into a silence for a while, the sounds of the canyon and Caboose’s work being the only thing audible. Simmons tried not to fidget but guilt pricked at him, trying to prompt him into sharing something himself. He sighed. It was only fair after the amount Caboose just shared.

“I was kicked out at eighteen,” Simmons said quickly, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible. “My father was controlling. He wanted me to be something I wasn’t. He signed me up for sport after sport that I didn’t like and wasn’t good at. But I went along with it for a long time because I thought it would make him proud. But every failure just made him more disappointed in me. I only put my foot down when he tried to choose my college and major for me. So, he kicked me out.

“I think he thought I would come crawling back, begging to be let back in. Instead, I joined the military. It was supposed to pay for my college when I was done, but I don’t think being a simulation trouper counts towards that. Now, I’m here,” Simmons finished, picking at the metal plate cover on the forearm. Only Grif had actually heard that story, and only after about two months of pestering him about it. He wasn’t sure how Caboose would react.

“You tell a very good story, Simmons,” Caboose said with a nod. “Though very quick.”

“Thanks, I’ll work on that,” Simmons said with a relieved chuckle.

“What was the moral?” Caboose asked. “All stories have morals, right?”

“That I’m a failure at everything I try, even standing up for myself,” Simmons answered immediately.

“That’s wrong.”

“What? How can it be wrong! It’s my story, the moral can be what I want!”

“No, you’re wrong,” Caboose said with certainty. “You’re good at a lot of things. Like deleting Blues from computers and playing that weird table-game with no board about dragons and helping me fix your arm. Oh, and you’re a good friend. One of the best friends. Not my best friend. That’s Church. You can be Grif’s best friend though. Since you both sleep under the nap tree together.”

“Fuck, how do you remember that out of everything else?”

“It was cute.”

D: I “ship” it.

“Delta!” Simmons exclaimed, his face heating up even more. “It’s not like-“

“So, what’s the moral of your story? The not-wrong moral?” Caboose asked before Simmons could continue. Simmons grumbled in frustration for a moment before answering.

“I don’t know, maybe that some fathers are shit and have no business being parents?”

“And?”

“And…” Simmons snuck a look at Caboose who seemed to be staring at him intently. “And what?”

“That it’s not your fault?”

“It’s not my…” Simmons sat there for a moment, thinking on what was just said. He couldn’t find any fault in that logic. “Yeah, and it’s not my fault. Or your fault. It’s their fault for failing us.”

“Right, that’s a good moral. Not your fault. Very good. I like it,” Caboose said, working intently on the arm once again. “But Sarge is a good dad. I’m glad you got a new, much better dad now.”

“Wait, what-FUCK!” Simmons was interrupted by a sharp pain shooting through his shoulder at one particularly intent turn of Caboose’s screwdriver.

“Nerve is connected,” Caboose announced.

“I fucking noticed!” Simmons exclaimed. “Why didn’t you warn me?!”

“You were talking. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You have no trouble interrupting me for anything-“

“Move it! Move your arm. I want to see it work,” Caboose interrupted.

Simmons grumble again, but did as ordered, going through several different exercises to test the thing. It was, surprisingly smooth. There were no stutters in the movement, major or fine, and it didn’t feal heavy like it had before. It felt…almost like a normal arm.

“Is it good? Does it feel good?”

“Yeah, it’s good. A lot better, actually,” Simmons said, watching his own arm move in awe. “Thank you.”

“No problem!” Caboose said happily. “Friends give their friends a hand sometimes.”

“Sometimes more literally than others, huh?” Simmons said after a moment, waving the new limb in emphasis.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Caboose hopped on his toes, his excitement barely contained. “You got my joke!”

“Yeah, I did,” Simmons said, with a bit of a smile. “You should tell it to Grif, he’d probably like it too, since I once gave him a hand.”

“Really? Is he part robot too?”

“No, he just has my left arm now.”

“That’s where it went,” Caboose muttered to himself before focusing back on Simmons. “I’m going to go tell him!”

Caboose was already walking away when Simmons realized the arm wasn’t exactly done.

“Wait! Caboose! It’s not done yet! You can’t leave me like this! I’ll get…um…what did you call it? Controller drift? Yeah, I don’t want that,” Simmons called. “We’ll find Grif after!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFotC: Thanks to D_E_W_P for suggesting Simmons and Caboose should have bonding time over having shitty dads. THanks again!
> 
> FFotC2: My only robotic arm knowledge comes from Fullmetal Alchemist and my rudimentary knowledge of controller drift (yes, the pokemon story is actually mine. lol) I am by no means an expert.


	22. Let's find Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caboose and Delta look for Carolina and Epsilon

“Good morning Delta!” Caboose said, when Delta woke up. He had slept in again, he knew that much. There hadn’t been a single day this week that he hadn’t. The only question now was how long. 

[Good morning,] Delta said, still feeling exhausted as he checked the time. It was about 9am, which wasn’t too bad, he was fairly sure. He had woken up past noon yesterday, which was later than nine. He could deal with nine.

“Do you want to help me look for Church and Carolina?” Caboose questioned as he walked away from the temporary blue base and towards the middle of the canyon.

[Are they missing?]

“Yeah, they’re not here right now,” Caboose answered. “So, I’m going to go find the place they are at. But Wash said none of us can leave the canyon without a buddy but if you’re awake, you can be my buddy.”

[Why don’t we look inside the canyon before we try to look outside of it?] Delta suggested.

“We did that yesterday. They weren’t here then either,” Caboose said, making Delta pause. He didn’t remember looking for Epsilon or Carolina yesterday.

[Yesterday we were explaining to Simmons how a few of the extra features in his arm worked,] Delta said slowly.

“Because he didn’t know it was like an UNSC cheese knife and got confused by the screwdriver in his middle finger.”

[Swiss Army Knife, and yes. That was yesterday.]

“Nope, that was _before_ yesterday. You slept through yesterday,” Caboose said certainty.

Delta’s thoughts froze. That didn’t seem possible. He shouldn’t have been able to sleep for so long. He’d slept half the day away last time, sure, but this was far past that.

“Um...Delta? Are you alright?” Caboose asked slowly. He had stopped walking in the middle of the canyon, instead standing there to talk to him. “You feel confused. And maybe scared. But definitely confused. I know what confused feels like.”

[Are you sure I slept that long?] Delta asked, very uncertain of what this could mean. Caboose picked up on that fairly easily.

“Yeah. I woke up yesterday and you were sleeping. You stayed sleeping while Washington had me and Tucker play old Freelancer games, and when I talked to Simmons about his arm, and when I looked for Church, and when I went back to bed,” Caboose explained, counting everything on his fingers, ending with all five fingers ticked off. “It was a really long sleep time, but Washerman said it would be alright. That you’re still hurt and you need sleep to get all your blankets back.”

[Right, sleep helps recovery,] Delta stated, a little detached. [That’s probably all this is.]

“You don’t think that’s right?” Caboose questioned.

[I do not know. It just seems odd that it would worsen now when I have been broken for some time.]

“Do you think you broke more? Did the fall from space hurt you like it hurt Simmons’s robot arm? Do you want me to fix you too?” Caboose asked.

[No, but thank you for the offer,] Delta said, feeling a little better from Caboose’s concern. [I've been feeling tired for a while now, it is most likely derived from that. Though, I would like to speak to Epsilon about it.]

“Yes! Let's find Church!” Caboose exclaimed, throwing his arm up in the air before starting to walk again. He had only taken a few steps before stopping. “There they are! Wait, no, that’s just Simmons and Grif arguing.”

[So it is,] Delta said, turning his own attention towards the bickering pair standing close to the Red’s temporary base. [Speaking of which, did you ever get around to telling Simmons about the hidden weapons you included in his arm?]

“Weapons?”

[Yes, weapons.]

“What weapons?”

A high-pitched scream cut him off as fire shot out of Simmons’s palm and caught their roof tarp on fire.

“Ooooh,” Caboose said slowly. “Those weapons.”

[We can tell him later,] Delta said after a moment, watching as Sarge came out of the building to watch Simmons frantically try to put it out. [He looks a little distracted right now.]

“Yeeah, let’s go. Out of the canyon. Where they don’t know it was me,” Caboose said, slowly starting to sneak towards the canyon’s exit.

They had almost made it out when Simmons finished putting out the fire and immediately turned around to catch Caboose’s subpar sneaking attempt.

“CABOOSE! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” he yelled across the canyon, pointing at the remains of the tarp.

“TUCKER DID IT!” Caboose yelled back, sprinting the rest of the way out of the canyon before he could be stopped.

-

They didn’t find Carolina and Epsilon. All they found was Church’s old sniper that Carolina had somehow come across in the rubble after they crashed, with a small note just saying “See you soon.”

This upset Caboose, causing the two of them to sit at the top of the canyon for several hours until Washington finally found them and brought them back. Delta had tried to comfort Caboose but it was hard when he didn’t even know what he was feeling about it.

Delta should be feeling something. Epsilon left. _Again._ After promising not to leave him alone. Though, his exact words had been about not getting trapped in a memory unit again, the sentiment was still the same. He wasn’t supposed to leave him behind. He especially shouldn’t have left him stranded after a shipwreck with no word as to why he’s even left. Delta knew he should feel something about it. Maybe sad, or angry, or disappointed. Something negative, that was certain. But he just felt tired.

_So_ tired.

He’s only been awake for a few hours, he shouldn’t be feeling this tired.

“It’s alright, Caboose,” Wash said as he led Caboose back to camp by the hand. Caboose gripped it tightly, almost as tight as the grip he had on Church’s old sniper. “I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

“They left,” Caboose said flatly.

“I know, and it was a really shitty thing for them to do. But they’ll be back,” Wash tried to reassure. “Maybe they went out to scout for help or something important. Whatever it was, I doubt either of them will stay away from their siblings for long.”

“Camolina is my sister.”

“Yes-“

“I lost my sister.”

“No! No, she just… wandered off for a little bit.”

“And Delta lost his brother,” Caboose continued regardless.

“No, Caboose. They _are_ lost. _You_ did not loose them,” Wash stressed. “Plus, with Delta and Epsilon both having been created from an AI cloned from your- well, they were created from Alpha Church, they’re probably the closest thing to brothers you have.”

Delta could feel Caboose thinking on this during the long silence.

“Do you, understand what I’m getting at?” Wash asked cautiously.

“That I both didn’t have a brother and lost a brother all in the same day,” Caboose said finally.

“No, no, no, that’s not-“

“I was right! This _is_ really sad!”

“Jesus Christ,” Wash muttered under his breath as he rubbed at his helmet with his free hand. “Delta, can I get some help? I think I’m just making things worse.”

Delta…didn’t know what to say. So, he didn’t.

Washington waited a few seconds before speaking again.

“Delta?” Washington paused again, but Delta didn’t give him an answer. “Um, is Delta still asleep?”

Caboose shook his head.

“Why is he not answering then?”

“He just lost his brother.”

“Caboose, no one is lost,” Washington said slowly. “I’m sure Carolina and Epsilon know exactly where they are.”

“We don’t know where _we_ are,” Caboose pointed out. Washington paused for a moment.

“Alright, you have a point there,” Washington conceded.

“And _we’re_ lost then they’re _extra_ lost!”

“They are no more lost than we are,” Washington said. “They’re just not lost with us right now. But they’ll come back, they always do.”

“No, they don’t.”

“They came back last time, didn’t they?”

“We followed them.”

“Right, well, they would have come back if we, you know, hadn’t done that,” Wash said awkwardly. They were finally back at what Tucker was calling Blue Base 2.5, and Wash was sounding as exhausted as Delta was feeling. “Look, it will be alright. You’ll see.”

“Will I? I sometimes go blind.”

“That usually means you need a haircut.”

“Oh, right,” Caboose said, thinking a moment before continuing. “Next time I can’t see when I’m supposed to, I’ll tell you I need a haircut.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Wash said, sounding a little relieved. “And for now, how about we just get some dinner and go to bed. Maybe things will be better in the morning.”

“Yeah, Delta is really tired. I think he needs another nap,” Caboose answered with a nod.

“Didn’t he just wake up?”

“That was hours ago. He’s tired now,” Caboose said.

“Alright, let’s not keep him up any longer than he has to be then.”

“Yes, right. Dinner then sleep. Though he doesn’t need dinner so he could probably sleep through that if he wanted,” Caboose mused to himself as they walked towards the appointed kitchen area. In reality it was just a larger area with three mangled chares and a storage box, but it worked for what they wanted it for. Which was storing MREs and eating them. “Delta, do you want to go to sleep now?”

[I don’t want to,] Delta answered after a long pause. He really didn’t want to sleep; he was afraid he wouldn’t wake up on time like before. But he didn’t think he could stay awake any longer regardless. [But I think I have to. I’m…tired.]

“Ok, sweet dreams,” Caboose all but ordered. “No bad ones. I will be here when you wake up. Promise. I won’t get lost like Church is.”

[Thank you.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFotC: Once again thanking D_E_W_P for the great idea of Caboose adding odd upgrades to Simmons's robot arm.
> 
> just a quick note, next few chapters may be a little late (might have to switch to a biweekly for a bit) simply b/c they're proving difficult for me to write.


	23. I'm taking Wash's tools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delta sleeps.

It was dark next time Delta woke. According to Caboose’s clock it was one in the morning on a day that was not when he went to sleep. He thought it was maybe the next day, which wasn’t any worse than last time. Knowing that helped calm his nerves a bit, though it did not get rid of the confusion he felt at why Caboose was sneaking out of Blue Base at such a strange time.

[Caboose? Where are we going?] Delta questioned, causing Caboose to perk up considerably.

“Delta! You’re awake!” Caboose said loudly, despite his attempt as stealth. He immediately covered his mouth upon realizing he was still trying to sneak. “I am glad. It’s too quiet when you are sleeping. It makes me sad and everything is just more confusing.”

[I apologize. I do not mean to upset you.]

“It’s not your fault,” Caboose told him in a very matter-of-fact tone. “It still makes me sad though.”

[I am not entirely thrilled about this development either,] Delta admitted before steering back to the topic at hand. [Though that does not explain why you are sneaking out of the base in the middle of the night.]

“No, it doesn’t,” Caboose stated. He continued towards the middle of the clearing, seemingly straight towards the communication tower that Washington has been trying to fix. He did not offer any further explanation.

[ _Why_ are you sneaking out?] 

“Oh, I'm taking Wash’s tools,” Caboose announced cheerfully. “If I take them when he sees me take them, then he’ll stop me and I can’t have that.”

[And why are we taking Washington’s tools?] Delta questioned. [I imagine he needs them to fix the communications tower.]

“He’s not allowed to have them anymore,” Caboose explained, already picking up the scattered tools and putting them carefully in the tool kit. “He does not know how to use them right so he’s not allowed to have them.”

[So, you are confiscating his tools.]

“Ah, no, no. That would not help,” Caboose said, pausing as he held a hammer. “Though I doubt Wash has been very nice to his tools so maybe they would like to hear some kind words.”

Caboose held up the hammer to eye level and stared at it for a long moment.

“You are a good hammer and do a great job hitting things. Even though that thing is sometimes Washingtub’s thumb.”

[Though I’m sure the hammer would appreciate the sentiment if it could, I was saying confiscate, not compliment,] Delta explained. [You are taking away his tools.]

“Right, yes. That is what I said,” Caboose nodded as he put the hammer away and continued collecting the other tools. “Washington does not know how to use the tools so he should not have them. He is only breaking things, and that’s not good.”

[He’s not fixing the communication tower correctly, is he?] Delta asked, more than a little amused now that he knew the situation.

“No, it’s just like the epsilon unit. He’s making a mess,” Caboose said, shaking his head. “If he’s just going to make a mess, then he’s not allowed to have them.”

[I agree,] Delta stated. [But the tower does have to be fixed at some point.]

“Not by Wash.”

[No, not by Wash,] Delta agreed. [I was thinking we could work on it. Since we are both awake and are in possession of the tools to do so.]

“Us...Fix it?” Caboose said slowly before excitement started to kick in. “Yes! Let’s do that! I haven’t gotten to fix anything since we finished Simmons’s arm and he won’t let me near it since he found out about the flame throwing part.”

[He is probably just worried about you being near fire. It tends not to mix,] Delta explained. 

“No, fire does not like me,” Caboose stated, finishing collecting all the tools before pulling out his screwdriver to examine the tower. “Or it _really_ likes me.”

[That is a possibility,] Delta agreed.

“Delta!” Caboose called, a thought popping into his head that he was excited to share. “Fire thinks I’m hot!”

Delta sent him his amusement as Caboose snickered quietly at his own joke.

They eventually settled down and started work on the tower. It was well into the early morning before they stopped for the day. It wasn’t completely fixed, there were still a few things Caboose had wanted to take a look at, but it was in a lot better shape now than it had been. They snuck back in just as Wash was dragged Tucker out for a morning run, the sound of the aqua soldier’s complaining covering any sounds Caboose made.

Caboose pushed the tools neatly under his bed before flopping onto it himself.

“That was fun,” Caboose said through a yawn. “We should fix more tomorrow night.”

[We can try,] Delta agreed, already feeling tired himself. He had been for an hour or so but refused to sleep until they were done for the night.

“Will you be awake tomorrow night to help?” Caboose asked cautiously.

[I do not know,] Delta answered after a moment. [I am no longer in control of how long I sleep.]

“Ok,” Caboose said simply, though Delta could feel an undercurrent of sadness to his words. “I don’t think I want to play Washer’s Freelancer games today. They’re boring and I'm tired. I’m going to sleep too so it’s alright if you sleep all day today.”

[Ok, thank you,] Delta said, feeling quite fond of the man.

“You’re welcome,” Caboose said, already starting to doze. “I’ll see you when you wake up.”

-

When Delta woke again, he was more confused than when he woke previously, which was saying something since he hadn’t even looked at the clock yet. At least Caboose stealing Wash’s tools could be considered fairly normal in terms of things to wake up to. As for now, well, Delta wasn’t even sure where Caboose had found a Mantis class assault droid or how he managed to get it to follow his commands.

The fact that Wash, Tucker, and, for some reason, Simmons, were standing across the way each in varying dejected poses, didn’t help his confusion.

Delta wanted to ask what was going on but Caboose was so distracted trying to get Washington’s attention that he hadn’t noticed he was awake yet. Instead, he asked the next person likely to have an answer.

D: What is going on?

“Oh thank God, he’s awake,” Wash said, sounding very relieved at the message. “Please talk some sense into him.”

“Awake? Who’s awake? I’m awake, does that count?” Caboose spoke rapidly as he hopped on the balls of his feet.

[I’m awake,] Delta stated now that Caboose wasn’t rambling.

“Delta! You’re awake too? This is the best day ever!” Caboose said happily. “You’re awake. And Freckles is fixed. And the comm tower works. Well, it did. Wash broke it again. But it brought Donut and Doc, who are also here. And now Simmons is on Blue team and I’m Blue Team leader so it’s been a great day!”

This explanation didn’t help Delta’s confusion any. That was an awful lot of stuff to happen while he was asleep and he wasn’t exactly sure how they all correlated. But first thing first.

[How long was I asleep?] he asked, not really wanting to hear the answer, but needing to know it anyways.

“Three days.”

Delta calmed himself before he could get worked up over this. Sure, it was the longest amount of time yet, but from the looks of it, he had other things he needed to focus on right now.

[And, what exactly is a...Freckles?]

“How rude of me! I forgot you haven’t meet Freckles yet,” Caboose said before turning towards the mantis. “Delta, this is Freckles. He’s my new friend. He can be your friend too, if you want a new robot friend. Isn’t he great?”

[He’s…very big,] Delta said slowly. [How did you get him into the base?]

“Very carefully.”

[I’m sure,] Delta said. [Where did you find him?]

“Oh well, I was really sad yesterday because you were asleep, and Church and Carolina are gone, and my face isn’t the right face, so Wash said I should go for a walk. Which was also sad because I was walking by myself, but then I wasn’t because I found Freckles and I fixed him and now we’re great friends!”

[Ok,] Delta said slowly. [Was Freckles very broken?]

“Oh yes. Freckles was under a lot of rock. But I was able to move the rocks, because I’m strong,” Caboose said proudly. “It was a little hard fixing him without help but I did it.”

[It looks like you did a very good job.]

“Why thank you, Delta. He was sparking before but now he’s not, so that’s good.”

“Delta,” Tucker hissed. “Will you stop fucking around and fix this already?”

D: I do not see what

D: needs to be fixed.

“What doesn’t need to be fixed?! Caboose’s pet-” Tucker tried to explain, but cut when Freckles turned to look at him. He continued a moment later, no longer yelling but still fairly tense. “I mean, Caboose’s ‘second in command’ demoted Wash and _promoted_ Caboose so now we have to listen to him or it kills us.”

D: How did that happen?

“I don’t fucking know!” Tucker turned towards Wash. “Wash, he wants to know how it happened.”

“There was an argument, which lead to a misunderstanding between…well everyone, which lead to Freckles believing I stepped down as leader and that we all agreed Caboose should be leader in my stead,” Wash said reluctantly.

Delta thought for a long moment before messaging Wash directly once again.

D: What sort of argument

D: leads to that?

“I’d…rather not say.” Wash shifted awkwardly. “It was a petty squabble between me and Tucker that got out of hand very quickly.”

D: Sounds like you fucked up.

“Yes, we fucked up,” Wash said with a sigh. “I admit that, please just…talk to him.”

D: I do not control Caboose.

Wash paused for a confused moment before responding.

“I know that?” Wash said slowly. “But if you could talk to him, about fixing this, that would be good.”

D: I do not control Caboose.

D: I help him remember

D: and explain things that

D: confuse him.

D: But I do not control him.

“But he _is_ confused,” Wash tried to stress. Delta was unmoved. “It was a misunderstanding.”

D: And what did you say

D: that lead to this large

D: of a misunderstanding?

When Washington didn’t answer, Delta turned his attention towards Caboose.

[Caboose, do you remember how you became leader?] Delta asked.

“Yes, yes I do,” Caboose stated. “I was standing with Freckles and Tucker was yelling that I was amazing and how I should be leader instead of Wash and Wash was yelling that he agreed so I said I’d be leader and now I’m leader.”

Delta watched as both Tucker and Washington looked anywhere but at Caboose.

[And how did Simmons end up on blue team?]

“He asked.”

[He doesn’t look like he’s very happy about staying,] Delta pointed out.

[I don’t know why,] Caboose answered silently, his emotions dampening a bit. [No one’s happy now that I’m leader. But they’re not fighting anymore so it’s alright.]

[Do _you_ want to be leader?] Delta questioned. [You know you don’t have to be if you don’t want to, right?]

[Yeah, but they’re not fighting when I’m leader. And I don’t really mind being leader right now,] he said. [It’s kind of fun because no none can tell me that paying with Freckles all day is bad because I’m in charge.]

[That is quite the bonus,] Delta agreed. [If you don’t mind, I do have a suggestion.]

[Yes?]

[Don’t give up your leadership until they apologize,] Delta said, making Caboose pause in confusion.

“Apologize?” he stated out loud, startling the room before speaking silently again. [For what?]

[From what I understand, they were being unnecessarily mean to each other and to you during their fight,] Delta pointed out. [Because of that, you are now leader. They want me to fix their mistakes but that’s not why I’m here. I understand that stress is high right now but that does not make their actions acceptable. Wait until they apologize to both each other and to you before giving Washington back his title. Does that sound reasonable?]

[Yes, yes. I like that. They have to be nice first,] Caboose said, happily. [Though I still don’t know what they did to make them have to apologize to me.]

[That’s alright, they’ll know,] Delta stated before going back to messaging Washington.

D: Caboose wishes to stay

D: leader.

D: I support his decision.

“What? Come on, D,” Wash tried to convince.

D: No.

D: I’m not cleaning up

D: your mess.

D: If you want to be leader

D: again, you better start

D: acting like one.

D: Until your maturity levels

D: are higher than that of

D: grade schoolers at recess,

D: Caboose is in charge.

“Is he going to help?” Simmons asked cautiously.

“No,” Wash said slowly. “He says we have to take responsibility for our mistakes, and, I can’t exactly fault him for that.”

“What about the giant killer robot that will kill us if we so much as _accidentally_ break the rules? Did you explain that to him?” Simmons questioned.

D: You’re problem.

D: Not mine.

“But! But!” Simmons sputtered. He flared his arms, but with a shriek when a knife popped out of his robot arm and into his palm.

Everyone stared at it for a long moment.

“So that’s where my spare knife went,” Washington said flatly. “Good to know.”

“Captain Caboose,” said killer robot interrupted, having been surprisingly quiet throughout the whole proceedings. “Assignments need to be given.”

“Right! You are correct Assistant Captain Freckles. The first thing we need to do is….Is…” Caboose paused, unable to remember what needed to be done.

[The comm tower needs to be worked on. Since our last distress call seemed to only have brought more people to be stuck with us,] Delta explained.

“Right! The comm tower needs to be fixed. Um…Tucker! Tucker can work on that.” Caboose nodded sagely.

“What? Why me?!” Tucker exclaimed.

“Because Wash isn’t allowed to have tools and Simmons only likes the 1’s and 0’s of computer stuff,” Caboose stated. 

“What, why isn’t Wash allowed around tools?” Tucker asked.

“Yes, I would also like to know this,” Wash said, sounding just as confused.

“Because he has to guard the perimeter to make sure bad, scarry people don’t break in,” Caboose answered by completely avoiding the question.

“But there’s no one else here!” Tucker exclaimed.

“Well, Wash did say that it felt like we were being watched,” Simmons pointed out, pausing in his attempt to figure out how to put the knife back. “Maybe Caboose feels the same and wants to be ready. You know, just in case.”

“Can I make a request?” Wash asked, sighing a bit.

“Of course, Agent Washington! I accept all requests!”

“If I’m going to be on…patrol, then I would like to request Simmons to accompany me,” Wash stated. “If he’s going to have a knife as part of his arm, then I should at least show him how to use it before he hurts himself.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Caboose exclaimed. “As long as you’re still looking for bad people.”

“We will.”

“Good, good. Then…um…dismissed.”

The others wandered away to do their respective tasks with varying levels of excitement. Once all three were gone, Delta spoke to Caboose again.

[Caboose, can you tell Freckles to “Disable lethal enforcement mode” please?] Delta asked.

“Of course!”

Delta waited patiently as Caboose repeated the words, getting an affirmative back from his giant robot friend.

“What did that do?” He asked afterwards.

[Now Freckles won’t try to shoot anyone for disobeying you,] Delta explained. [It’s just safety precautions.]

“Ok, that’s good. But, um…I don’t think Wash, and Tucker, and Simmons know he won’t kill them now. Since they already left.”

[No. No they won’t,] Delta answered slyly.

“Ok! Do you want to see how Freckles looks in a very teeny hat?”

[Yes, that sounds like fun.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see some stupid art/comics about Simmons's new robot arm [I did some doodles](https://tblsomedoodles.tumblr.com/post/642247530832363520/arm-upgrades-doodle-dump-just-some-doodles-for) for it here!

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [tumblr](https://twicethetrouble.tumblr.com/) for updates and other random stuff!


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